Stockholm Syndrome
by Mthaytr
Summary: Castle Oblivion is a place where the dregs of society - the insane or mentally disturbed - are thrown to be conveniently forgotten about. Saix tries to hold onto his sanity in a world that doesn't acknowledge him as human, and others find reasons to live.
1. Chapter 1

Saïx was institutionalized – finally – at the age of eighteen. He had been diagnosed with clinical lycanthropy at age twelve. The symptoms were obvious – development of a canine-like appearance, and temporary insanity during the full moon, during which the patient believes that they have lupine form. The only reason it had taken so long was because his family had been unusually neglectful, and rarely noticed these bouts of lunacy.

This isn't to say that he wasn't well-fed or cared for – but he was quite free to sharpen his nails if he so chose, or to play with dogs almost to the exclusion of people. They hardly noticed his growing fangs, or the claws that began to appear simply because his nails were too hard to cut. And he was perfectly alright with that situation.

The family relinquished control at eighteen, when, during one of his monthly wildnesses, he attacked and almost killed his older brother. That looked worse on the family record than did a son in the insane asylum, and so they dropped him off unceremoniously at the falsely cheery Hollow Bastion Correctional Facility.

The place was nice enough, he admitted to himself when feeling generous, but the company of only loons and shrinks grew quite old after a while. With some work on his part, however, and a few carefully cultivated friendships, he began to have a veritable library snuck in, which made his stay infinitely more bearable. It was easier to forget the incoherent cries from the room next door when reading about philosophy and the string theory.

But none of that excused the fact that it was a cage, and the world was so much darker through prison bars.

xxx

Xemnas might have smiled when he saw the file in front of him had he been a normal person. Finally, the worthless morons who called themselves his lab assistants had done something worthwhile. In front of him sat the medical records for possibly the only institutionalized case of clinical lycanthropy in the modern world.

Those records were, of course, strictly confidential to the patient and his doctor, but there were few legal matters that a bit of creative bribery or threat dispensation couldn't cure.

He put the papers down on his immaculate walnut desk, expression solid and unchanging, and quietly resolved to make himself a place in this asylum, to study this lunatic, and perhaps learn what it was that gave him his rage – because, being incapable of any kind of passion, emotion in all its many forms was fascinating to him. And so, he would watch the human race pitilessly, removed from it, and yet, not so very unlike it at all.

xxx

Saïx contemplated dispassionately on waking that his only reason to get up today was to stave off _real_ insanity, the kind that had you blabbering on like a baby about everything or nothing at all. He wouldn't leave his room today, so the only kind of stimulation he would get would be from the limited television channels available on his thirty-year-old television set. He didn't usually go anywhere, in fact, because the only other place he was allowed to visit was the Common, and he had no desire whatsoever to associate with people who couldn't even tell a smile from sarcasm, much less hold intelligent conversation with him. Probably the most interesting thing that would happen today would be that Naminé girl bringing him some unidentifiable kind of mash. It was only barely tolerable, and only that because he needed sustenance for survival.

He sat up slowly and yawned, greeted by white on all sides. That suited him fine. He wasn't much of a colors person anyway. Upon looking around, he noticed that his dishes from last night's drippy cafeteria fare lay haphazardly by his door. That was strange; she should have been by to pick them up by now. Must be running late. But he didn't mind; Saïx liked it when it was Naminé's shift to take care of him. He scared her. It was fascinating to him, to watch her tremble and smile both at once. He almost admired her for that.

His thoughts were interrupted by a sharp rap on the door. His ears twitched in response – dammit, why wouldn't they _stop_ doing that – and he was soon greeted by the sight of Zexion, looking washed-out as usual in his white lab coat.

"It's Tuesday," Saïx said without any other explanation. Zexion never came on Tuesdays, and something must be off for him to break the schedule.

"Shut up and don't complain," Zexion responded coolly, setting down the pile of thick tomes in his arms with a thud onto the cheap wood bedside table. "If you're good, I'll give you a treat," he said with a smirk. There was a kind of understanding between them that allowed him to say things like that.

"Fuck you," Saïx responded from the bed with only a small scowl.

"That's no way to talk to me, Saïx. I brought you something." And with that, he pulled out a warm plastic container and tossed it to the inmate.

"It's steak, grade-A, and _yes_ it's cooked, before you ask. I have no desire to be charged with manslaughter after you die from undercooked meat."

He gave Zexion a halfhearted glare before delicately tearing a bite out of the meat, savoring it slowly. The doctor cleared his throat carefully, then continued.

"Your books. Philosophy today, and one astrophysics. You liked it last time, right?"

Saïx could tell that Zexion was making an extra effort to be friendly today. Pathetic, that. This was all he could come up with.

"So what's the news?" the inmate asked tonelessly, not looking up from his meat. It was obvious that something strange was happening, what with Naminé not coming to visit and Zexion coming on a Tuesday, bearing gifts to presumably butter him up.

"I'm… being transferred. Or more accurately, someone else is taking on your case. Xemnas is his name, as he told me when I asked. No last name. He's… well, you'll have to meet him."

"Transferred," he responded emotionlessly. He paused for a moment. "So the bastard wants me as a test subject." Nobody suddenly took on the case of a random lunatic without having some kind of ulterior motive. He didn't need to say another word to make it clear that he saw this as a challenge. And Saïx had never been one to back down from a challenge, no matter who it killed.

"Look, don't get too out-of-control. Visitation rights are based on good behavior, and I'm sure that nobody else in this place is going to give you steak and Voltaire."

Their curious friendship was based on something of a mutual understanding – to Zexion, Saïx was a welcome relief from the crazies he had to deal with for the rest of the day, someone with whom he could spend a companionable silence and still be doing his job. To Saïx, Zexion was a source of sanity – for at least these moments, Zexion reminded him that there was more to life than just this, and that now matter how he was treated by the other scientists, just because he went crazy on the full moon did _not _mean that he was mentally deficient. And for those things, however small, he was eternally grateful.

"Visitation rights? Screw that. Sneak in. Sneak Demyx in." Demyx was a fellow inmate, one of the few Saïx could tolerate, even if he didn't necessarily like the boy. Demyx was a manic-depressive suicide risk whose medicine left him a little far on the "manic" side of that spectrum. His medicine was administered every six hours precisely, with hell resulting if it wasn't. The boy had taken a liking to Saïx, and at least that made his days less intolerably boring.

"Do I know Demyx?"

"New acquisition, third floor ward, I think. He's a suicide risk, wouldn't be your case." Demyx had also proven himself to be especially adept at getting wherever he wanted, whenever he wanted, regardless of petty rules – Saïx suspected that half the staff, male or female, was at least mildly infatuated with him already, plus some of the more lucid inmates.

Zexion frowned, arms crossed customarily, and stared down Saïx from behind the curtain of his bangs.

"Does this mean you're planning on causing trouble?" he asked, not quite accusingly but with just enough of an edge to his voice for Saïx to notice.

"I will be… noncompliant," he replied with a smirk, baring his fangs slightly in the process.

Zexion sighed, shaking his head.

"Alright, then. But this guy is higher up than me. Way higher up. Nobody quite knows where he came from except Vexen, and he refers to Xemnas as 'the Superior.' So keep in mind that I won't be able to bail you."

Saïx didn't respond. He didn't need any kind of saving, and planned to make that quite clear.

Realizing that this conversation was over, Zexion relaxed slightly, then gave a parting nod and turned, out the white door into the white hall, and all either of them could see anywhere was white.

xxx

Xemnas might have almost said that he was… looking forward to the meeting, as much as he ever looked forward to anything. More apt, perhaps, would be to say that he was interested. Avidly interested.

He did not knock as he entered Room Thirty-Six, where his case lived. But instead of the stoic man with blue-silver hair he had been led to expect, he was greeted by a faceful of bubbly blonde.

"Hi! You must be Xemnas. Dr. Xemnas, I guess? Anyway, I'm Demyx. Nice to meet you, and welcome to Castle Oblivion."

"…Castle Oblivion," Xemnas responded with a condescending, barely-visible sort of half-amusement.

"Yeah. Once you walk in, it's like you never existed on the Outside. So, Castle Oblivion," the blonde responded with a grin that managed to not quite be bitter.

Xemnas didn't respond, though he raised an eyebrow by way of expressing his opinion. The nickname was… unrefined, at best, but curiously apt. Castle Oblivion.

"So anyway, you're here to meet Saïx, right? Don't mind me, I'm just visiting. He's watching television right now, just through that door."

Xemnas nodded his head in acknowledgement, brow furrowing in frustration. He was beginning to tire of the boy's… friendliness.

"Leave us," he said without any attempt at subtlety.

Demyx's hurt was instantaneous and clearly visible, though he played it up a bit for dramatic effect.

"Well fine then, be that way. But that stick in your ass has probably been there so long it's starting to grow roots. Don't blame me for trying to be friendly." And with one final look towards his new Superior, waiting for the reaction that never came, he stalked out the door petulantly.

Some part of Xemnas told him that maybe those weren't the best choice of words, but that part was quickly silenced due to inattention. After all, one didn't get diagnosed with sociopathy, even of the mild variety, for having any particular empathy for the thoughts of others.

He entered the small living room unhesitantly, looking quickly to see what his patient was watching – political coverage, a strange choice for a lunatic – then looked towards his patient. Number 36 had striking silver-gray hair, almost blue under the flickering halogen light, and his fangs were barely visible under his lip as he snarled at something or other that the commentator was saying. Xemnas clinically summed up his impression, making a mental note; the patient seemed strangely normal despite his appearance and apparent lunacy.

"Did you want something?" the patient asked, voice rumbling quietly. His eyes never left the television set.

"Yes, I am Xemnas. I will be working with you from now on. Please give me the details of your case, 36."

Xemnas saw the patient twitch minutely, generally a sign of displeasure, but could not ascertain the cause. He had learned over the years that using "please" made people more compliant. He did not understand why it wasn't working in this case. When the inmate did not respond, he cleared his throat and repeated the question. After a second silence, it was quite clear that his patient was not going to reply.

"Are you attempting to be difficult or do your mental deficiencies render you incapable of understanding speech? Interesting. I shall have to note that. Your previous caretaker indicated that you were mostly functional."

Number 36 looked up to meet Xemnas's eyes for the first time, and Xemnas noted that the patient's lip had curled upward, giving him a much better view of those interesting teeth.

"I am no more mentally deficient than you are yourself, you bastard, and maybe even less so than you," he responded with a snarl. Interesting.

"Ah. So you are capable of understanding human communication. As you have proven yourself able to do so, I must now assume that you are being difficult."

"I'm not going to be your toy." He noted that the patient's eyes were narrowed and his brow furrowed, and he searched his mind to recall what precisely that meant.

Xemnas frowned at the inmate's words, crossing his arms. That was an untrue statement, and he felt the need to correct his misconceptions.

"You will not be my toy, you will be my experiment," he stated firmly.

"Fuck you." It struck him suddenly – the patient appeared to be getting angry, a fact which startled Xemnas a little, and also began to make him frustrated.

"No need to be indignant. I have chosen you to be my project; you should be honored."

The inmate muttered something quietly, not meeting Xemnas's eyes, and his lips drew back into a grin that seemed curiously devoid of happiness. The doctor barely managed to hear the words "dare," and "life," and only because his hearing was rather extraordinary.

"Did you say something?" Xemnas asked, somehow suspicious that he was being mocked.

"Nothing at all. But 'I foresee obscurely that you are to become the most wretched of human beings.'" The same grin. It was mildly annoying.

"I would prefer being a wretched human being to being a pitiful, mangy dog."

The inmate growled quietly, and Xemnas almost smiled. It was curious to see just how closely the similarities ran between the patient and a mongrel.

"And I would prefer the company of beasts to the company of monsters."

Xemnas blinked, mildly confused.

"You do not suffer your own company?"

The patient snorted incredulously.

"No, I don't suffer your kind. 'I shall quit forever the neighborhood of man, or become the scourge of your fellow-creatures, and the author of your own speedy ruin.'"

Xemnas blinked, stared, and then smiled slowly.

"Frankenstein. I see. I underestimated you. I shall then have to make a real effort. Until you comply, I will be withholding your sustenance. I will give Naminé instructions that all sustenance is to be confiscated."

The patient – Saïx – gave a barking laugh.

"You can't do that, you asshole."

"I think you'll find that I can."

"That's breaking any number of laws and charters."

"And who will find out about this infraction? How?"

The patient was silent, and made it obvious that he wasn't going to respond by his furious glare. Xemnas noted with interest that the patient's pupils shrank so much when he was angry that they almost appeared nonexistent.

"Until tomorrow, then."

And with those words, Xemnas turned and walked out, thinking with relish on tomorrow's meeting. This man, this dog – he may yet prove to be a worthy opponent.

xxx

"You did _what?_" Zexion couldn't keep the startled look off his face.

"I restricted his food supply until such time as he decides to comply," Xemnas responded tonelessly, uninterested in his subordinate's indignation.

"You can't do that!"

"I can. It is vitally important that this patient comply with my requests. Visitation rights are also waived until further notice, doctor." He gave Zexion a look that said that he knew exactly what had been doing on against regulations.

Zexion gave Xemnas a blank look, carefully constructed to hide the frustration, then turned on his heel. He decided almost instantly that it was about time to make friends with this "Demyx." No matter their infraction, no patient in his ward was going to starve while he still had his job.

It wasn't far to the elevator, then only minutes up to the third floor infirmary where Saïx had said that Demyx lived. A quick question to the nurse – Kairi was her name – and he had the boy's room number.

Moments later found him standing awkwardly in front of Number 92, hand raised hesitantly but not quite willing to knock. He had never been particularly good with people, even though he liked their company – and somehow, the thought of going in and meeting this person was giving him pause.

He was saved from making that decision when the door flew open and a sandy blonde boy collided with the other man, sending them both flying to the floor with a dull thud.

"Oh, I'm so sorry! I didn't see you there. Are you alright?" he asked while clumsily attempting to untangle himself from the older man while Zexion sat there, staring dumbly. Eventually he realized that he was being asked a question, and gave a mute nod in response as he was helped up by a concerned Demyx.

"I'm so sorry, again. Yeah, I'm kind of clumsy like that. I hope you'll forgive me?" he asked worriedly. Zexion couldn't help but give a small smile at Demyx's concern.

"It's fine," he said, gesturing to Demyx that he should re-enter the room first. The blonde did so, looking distinctly relieved that his clumsiness hadn't earned him a lifelong enemy.

"So did you need something, doctor…?" He drifted off, and it was only then that Zexion realized that they hadn't been introduced.

"Zexion," he said with as much of a smile as he could comfortably manage – he didn't want to come off as unfriendly, he was just… naturally taciturn.

"Dr. Zexion, then."

"No, just Zexion. And you're Demyx?"

The boy smiled broadly, evidently pleased that he had been asked to call his doctor by his first name. It occurred to Zexion in passing that he was probably on first-name terms with almost everyone in the ward by now.

"Yeah. Like I said, did you need something?"

"Well, I wanted to get acquainted… Saïx spoke of you," he said, not wanting to broach the subject yet. He liked the boy, and really _did_ want to get to know him, so it wasn't quite an untruth.

Demyx's eyes widened a bit in surprise at his words.

"Did he? Really? I though he didn't like me very much," he said with a carefully controlled excitement.

"Trust me, the fact that he lets you stay means he likes you," Zexion responded dryly.

"Hm. Saïx is a very reserved person, isn't he? It's kind of a shame that he's stuck in this place with nobody."

"Yes, it is," Zexion responded, looking away awkwardly. He wanted to ask why Demyx was in this place – he seemed normal enough – but knew that that would be somewhat rude.

"You want to know why I'm in here, don't you?" Demyx asked with a smile, reading his thoughts. "It's okay, I don't mind."

He sat down on one of his small cushioned chairs, almost gray from constant use, and indicated that Zexion should do the same.

"I tried to kill myself, several times actually. Now you might think that I don't act much like a suicide risk, and you'd be right. I don't act like one, and I don't want to. When my medicine's in effect, I like who I am. But the other problem is that I need to take my medicine every four hours. So my family dropped me here 'cause they didn't want to deal with me."

He shrugged and gave a small smile.

"That all cool with you?" he asked Zexion, who watched the other quietly.

"Quite." He gave Demyx another smile, and realized that he had given Demyx more smiles in the past ten minutes than he had given anyone in weeks.

"That's good, then." They both sensed oncoming awkwardness, but Demyx avoided it with expert dexterity.

"So have you met the new Superior?" he asked quickly, to stave off the silence.

"I have."

"What did you think of him? I thought he has a stick in his ass so big it's probably serving as his spine."

Zexion smirked at the comment – Demyx seemed to have something of a knack for irreverent commentary.

"I thought the same thing," he responded, amused.

"Yeah, he seems like the king of assholes. Do you want to know what I found out today though? Xigbar told me that he's been diagnosed with a mild version of sociopathic disorder. So he's crazy too, only evidently he can fake his way through life, unlike us.

Zexion gave a small noise of recognition, contemplating a moment before responding.

"Yes, I could believe that. But also, part of the reason I came today," he made it a point to say "part" because he was genuinely enjoying Demyx's company regardless of his original intentions, "Xemnas has decided to deny food to Saïx until he complies. And I know you haven't been here very long, but I'm sure that you've figured out that Saïx isn't a particularly compliant person. Especially not to someone who doesn't treat him like a human being."

Demyx nodded.

"So you want me to sneak food in to him?"

"Actually…" he paused momentarily. "Saïx has something of a preference for steak. Undercooked steak. Which is obviously difficult to come by in the cafeteria. And those books you see him reading? He's not technically allowed to have them."

Demyx smiled slowly, thinking about it, and eventually couldn't contain his grin.

"So you sneak in Descartes and raw steak. You're an interesting guy."

He looked away, trying and failing to stop himself from smiling in return.

"Not that interesting. And not raw, I don't want him to die from salmonella or anything else. No matter what he thinks on the full moon, he still doesn't have a wolf's body."

Demyx's laughed.

"Of course you're interesting. In fact, I like you. Do you think that you could come and hang out here more often?"

There was a slight pause.

"…I'd like that."

Little did Zexion know that this moment was to be the start of the most enduring bit of human contact he had ever known.


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you for reading!

**Chapter 2**

Saïx watched the door with equal parts anger and apprehension. He ignored the growling of his stomach by pacing up and down the room, waiting for their rematch, eyes wandering.

He had decided that Xemnas would come at ten precisely, because the day before, he had come at ten, and he seemed like the sort of man who would stick to a schedule simply because he lacked the spontaneity and ingenuity to run life differently. Saïx smiled in vindication as his door opened at two minutes after ten.

"Good morning, I trust you slept well?"

Saïx fixed him with a glare in response.

"I see. A day without food hasn't sweetened your attitude any."

"I don't give in that easily."

"No, indeed it seems not; but it might be easier for you if you did."

"I'm not in this for 'easy,'" he responded with something halfway between a growl and a feral grin.

"What are you in it for, then?" Xemnas seemed to be surreptitiously taking notes on a small handheld pad, and Saïx bared his teeth in anger. Even this was just an experiment to that man, just another opportunity to treat Saïx like an inferior.

"For my pride. I fight to remember that I'm human still, on some level. I fight because I'm wasting away in this godforsaken place with nothing to challenge me."

"…an unusually descriptive answer," said Xemnas with a cock of his head. Saïx clenched his hands into fists in response.

"Telling my reasons for this benefits me also. I wouldn't want you to think that I'm just being noncompliant because I have no other recourse."

He didn't respond, instead jotting more words down on his little pad.

"…classic case of struggle for Alpha position…" he said quietly, under his breath, but Saïx's improved ears picked it up. He turned towards the scientist with a snarl, rage evident in his eyes.

"Is _everything_ just an experiment to you? The human race is just something to categorize and classify in your mind, isn't it?" He paused for a moment. "But for all that, you still don't understand humans, do you?"

Xemnas didn't respond, and Saïx grinned mirthlessly because finally, to an extent, he had begun to understand this man. And in truth, there was only one evil, and that was ignorance.

"Funny that you, a man who believes himself to be a wolf, should claim more knowledge of humanity than one who truly is human."

"Leave my transformations out of it," he snapped. "Even with them, there's more humanity in me than there is in you."

"What, then, are you defining as humanity? Is it logic and an ability to reason, that which separates us from beasts? Is it passion, in which way we are similar?"

"An ability, rather, to understand that which one hears or reads, to empathize with it, rather than just collecting facts. Being able to interpret information."

"Does that make your fellow inmates inhuman?" Xemnas asked, watching with interest as Saïx flinched. He had no particular love for his fellow patients, but he could not disdain them, because devaluing the lives of the mentally ill would also devalue his own life.

The inmate blinked, then smiled, and changed the topic deftly.

"Then you admit, now, that I have that ability?"

"You're avoiding the question," he responded, "Answer me and I shall answer you."

Saïx frowned again, but then paused for a moment, noting how the other man was more relaxed, now. More interesting. Almost acceptable.

"No, I think… a moral code, for one. An ability to understand and follow a moral code of some kind. Empathy helps with that, to some degree."

"I see. So my moral code would have to be the same as yours for you to consider me human."

"I didn't say that."

"Then your definition of humanity includes me indeed, for I also have and follow a moral code. You have disproven your own argument."

Saïx gave a barking laugh.

"I think that the fact you even say that proves that you don't quite understand what a moral code is. What a conscience is." He crossed his arms quickly, reveling in the discussion, and in his evident victory on this point, at least.

"Perhaps." A pause. "And in regards to your earlier question, I do admit that my initial appraisal of your mental faculties was… premature, at best. You have proven yourself to be a rational creature and an excellent opponent."

Saïx grinned, baring his teeth, reveling in the feeling of his own vindication.

"I appreciate that. Does this mean that you'll be reinstating my meals?"

"I didn't say that." Xemnas threw Saïx's earlier words right back in his face.

Saïx focused on Xemnas with fury almost instantaneously.

"What?! You admit I have value, then keep starving me?" he said with a voice that was almost like a deep growl.

"Just because you are a rational creature does not mean that you are compliant. Until such time as you are, you will not be fed." Xemnas hadn't yet stopped smiling, but that couldn't assuage Saïx's anger. Xemnas left without another word, leaving Saïx to his thoughts.

However, within moments, Saïx started to laugh – a deep and warm sound, though not often used. The fact that Xemnas hadn't relented meant that he truly considered Saïx to be a worthwhile opponent. And he relished that thought.

XXX

It was quite obvious that Kairi wasn't thrilled with her new boss. Evidently he had said something rude to her that day – maybe had been blowing her off? – and although Sora had been listening to her rant for fifteen minutes, he still hadn't gotten exactly what it was he'd done. The brunette smiled at her and nodded anyway, like he was so good at doing.

"And he was such a _jerk _to the patients! He treats them like they're not even _people_. He barely speaks to them and sometimes it seems like he's making fun of them and _why _did that man ever become a doctor?! It's for the power trip, I'm sure, not to actually _help _people like the rest of us want to do. I just can't believe it."

"He sounds like a real jerk," Sora responded amicably, watching the time on the slightly dilapidated wall of the coffeeshop where they were meeting. Ever since their job paths had led them different directions after high school, they had tried to meet at least once a month – but this time, they were meeting during his half-hour break, and it was supposed to have ended a couple of minutes ago at least. She took a deep breath to continue, and he sighed – he wasn't willing to cut her off, but he _really_ needed to get back to work. It's not like they got to see each other much anymore, though.

He breathed a silent sigh of relief as he heard the radio on his belt crackle, and Riku's voice emerged through the static.

"Sora? You there?"

"Kairi, hold on a minute, I have to take this, it's Riku."

Riku had been his best friend since they both were tiny, and now they were partners in the police force – bringing justice to the masses or something like that. They were also lovers, about to come up on their third anniversary, but he didn't like to throw that around.

He quietly picked up his radio and put it to his ear easily.

"Yeah, I'm here. Just got… caught up, talking to Kairi." He released the button just in time to hear Riku's melodious laugh from the other end.

"You can't keep him tied up forever, Kairi. The city needs him on the job, not to mention his partner."

Sora gave the girl a sheepish grin.

"Sorry Kai, but I really do have to go. Break ended five minutes ago." He glanced up at the clock. "Ten minutes ago."

Kairi gave a huffy little sniff, clearly overdone just for effect.

"Fine then Riku," she said before realizing that the radio was on the wrong way. Sora flipped the switch with a smile. "Fine then," she repeated, "take your partner back. I'm sure that a half hour is far too long to be apart from your dear Sora."

"Forty five minutes," came the amused reply from the other end.

"Forty-five minutes, then. Oh well, guess I have no choice. Sorry you couldn't be here today, Riku, we missed you. You have to come by next time, 'kay?"

"Got it," he replied from the radio, "Now let him go before I have to start calling in reinforcements for a hostage situation."

"Alright, alright, he's going." She paused to give Sora a kiss on the cheek.

"Bye, love you. Be safe out there, ok?"

"I always am. Don't worry about me," Sora responded with a grin. After all, nothing ever happened on their beat.

XXX

They had been three hours on patrol before anything was even slightly out of the ordinary. It was dusk, when objects on the street were beginning to be just silhouettes. Riku was surreptitiously yawning, or rather trying not to, and Sora was fiddling with his belt-clip in the way that he sometimes did when he was bored, when their complacency was interrupted by a small scream and a muffled grunt from a dark side-street. Upon hearing this, Riku, always the faster, took off at a run with Sora close behind.

They both had their guns pulled before they reached the entrance, and Riku threw out a hand to stop Sora from passing, which he resented mildly but wasn't about to fight.

"Police! Come out with your hands up!" yelled Riku, confident as ever. There were some shuffling noises, and then the sound of running. Unwilling to let them get away, Sora flew past Riku, ignoring his lover's protests, launching himself onto the nearest silhouette.

"Get the… fuck off," came the muffled voice from under Sora's body, and suddenly Sora felt a knife at his throat, which he avoided deftly just in time to see Riku come in from behind with a set of handcuffs. Within moments, the person's struggling body was restrained, and Sora flashed Riku a grin.

"You are now under arrest for assaulting an officer of the law. Should've kept your weaponry to yourself." Even in the dim light, Sora could see Riku smirking. They both knew whom they'd caught – the clothes were distinctive enough. Seifer was an infamous Twilight Town gang leader who had recently decided to expand his territory into Hollow Bastion.

"Fuck you, Seifer responded vehemently as Sora did a quick check of their surroundings. Evidently, Fuujin and Raijin had gotten away, but somehow Sora doubted that they'd be much trouble for the cops without their beloved leader.

They'd almost forgotten about the earlier scream when they heard a moan and some shifting noises from near the wall.

Riku nodded towards the noise, silently saying that he'd got Seifer, and that Sora should go investigate. Even in the dim light of the streetlamp around the corner, Sora could see the blood on the ground. And in the middle of the blood, dragged out in almost-dry sweeps across everything, lay a boy, bleeding but not dying.

Sora judged him to be almost nineteen, just a few years younger than he himself was, and noticed that he had sandy blonde hair, a color that was fairly unusual in Hollow Bastion. Probably from somewhere else, then. Upon turning the boy over, however, he noticed that the blonde and he himself looked strikingly similar. Almost identical.

"There's a kid here. He looks pretty beat-up; I doubt he's going to be a problem for us." And with that, he put away his gun and picked the kid up bridal-style. He was vaguely surprised by how little the kid weighed, but filed that away for later examination.

"Alright then, let's get these two out of here," Riku said, but as soon as the words were out of his mouth, the kid – Seifer – dropped to the ground and with one swift drop-kick, had felled Riku too. He had apparently worked free of one of his handcuffs while they had been finding the blonde kid, and now he took his knife from where it had fallen on the floor and stabbed Riku deeply in his arm. But Riku, with an amazing show of agility, used Seifer's extended arm as a ladder, in the process flipping Seifer through the air and also switching their positions.

Riku's eyes glinted in the moonlight, framed by his perfect silver hair, and Sora reflected that to anyone else, an angry Riku must have been quite a terrifying sight.

"Don't try that again," he barked, pointing his gun straight at Seifer. "You know I'll shoot," he said menacingly. And if Seifer knew anything about anything, he would know that, at least. Riku had been a gang leader himself during his youth, and now his past made him uniquely qualified to fight that of which he had once been a part. He unhesitatingly dealt out justice – he didn't pity these people. He had been in that situation and knew what it meant.

Seifer watched Riku for a moment, then slowly dropped his bloodied knife and put his hands up. Sora smiled – he couldn't understand what made Riku want to be his partner, but he was grateful just the same.

XXX

Back at the police station, after the blonde was cleaned up and properly awake, Sora sat him down for some questions. Normal procedure. The frustrating part was, he didn't seem to be able to answer any of them.

"What's your name?"

"I don't know." A different angle, then.

"Any idea where you're from?"

"None, sorry."

"Why were you getting beat up by Seifer's gang?"

"I don't know. I guess I wandered onto their territory." Sora gave a frustrated sigh, but smiled at the kid. He didn't want to take his frustrations out on someone else.

"Do you remember anything before the fight?"

"Yeah." Finally, some progress. "I woke up in Twilight Town, maybe two days ago, somewhere in the back streets."

"So we can rule out your most recent head trauma as the cause of your amnesia," he muttered to himself as he nodded to the blonde that he could leave for now.

"Any luck?" said Riku from his position leaning comfortably on the doorframe.

"None at all," Sora responded with a sigh, standing and walking towards Riku, to where he could lean on the older man without anyone noticing. Riku never said anything, but Sora knew he liked it.

"What about on your front?" Sora asked as Riku looped his arm around the brunette's waist.

"Seifer's in jail now till his court date, and seeing as he's just turned eighteen, I Got him in the regular instead of juvie. I was kind of afraid that they'd give him juvie, seeing as most of his crimes were committed as a juvenile, but the prosecutor decided to stress the double cop assault instead of the gang activity." Riku took one look towards his bandaged shoulder and winced. Sora knew that he wasn't wincing from pain, but rather mourning the loss of his arm for a month or more.

"Sometimes all people need is another chance, though. You should stop being so hard on them. You came back, didn't you?"

Riku frowned in response.

"Some people don't deserve another chance, Sora. Not after they threaten you." He gave Sora a small smile, and the brunette felt himself smile too.

"But he stabbed your arm, not mine," he said suddenly with concern.

"Yeah. Don't care," he said with a grin. Sora smiled back, and they shared a quick kiss, not knowing why they were so lucky but not asking, either.

XXX

"Another patient?" Zexion asked curiously. New patients were not a common occurrence in the asylum, and were therefore the source of speculation among the doctors and the more coherent patients.

"Yeah. Kairi offered him a place, evidently. He's an amnesiac, got picked up by the cops in the back streets. I think Naminé might have a crush on him already, actually. He's a cool kid. Hasn't got a name to go by though."

Hm. That was interesting. They didn't get many amnesia cases here, but Zexion had taken a minor in trauma therapy, which required knowledge of how to deal with amnesia. Maybe he could take on this new case. He had taken on Demyx a few days back, but it's not like the boy was much of a challenge, medically speaking.

"Have you two made friends yet?" he asked, amused – Demyx had, among many things, a talent for making friends with everyone. Even Xemnas was beginning to tolerate him and it'd only been a week.

"Sort of."

"So by that you mean he's eating out of the palm of your hand," Zexion replied with a grin. Demyx was always a bit modest, and the doctor had taken on the job of making sure his patient had a reality check every so often.

Demyx blushed a little and gave Zexion a friendly shove. Strange how that didn't bother him – he wasn't much of a physical contact person, after all.

"No, not like that. We've hung out some. I think the kid's chomping at the bit to get out of here – in fact, I'm fairly certain he's discovered how to get up onto the roof already. That took me at least three weeks."

Zexion raised an eyebrow.

"Way up onto the roof?" He vaguely recalled something in the rules saying that roof access was forbidden to patients or staff.

Demyx gave him a little grin that he knew spelled mischief.

"Yeah. Go to the fourth floor, into the rec center, through the tiles on the roof – they push up really easily, did you know that? – and there's a workstation for the air-conditioning system. Crawl into that, through the air duct, and there's a vent on the roof that you can get through if you're small enough."

"Is that so."

He laughed.

"Don't be such a stick in the mud, Zexy. It's kind of fun up there. Want to join me?" He also had a persistent habit of nicknaming people that Zexion couldn't quite bring himself to find annoying.

There was a pause for a moment as the doctor contemplated. On the one hand, he would probably enjoy it. On the other hand, there were rules…

Ah well. Screw the rules. He had a PhD. That earns you a couple of privileges here and there.

"…Why not."

XXX

Xemnas was mildly annoyed by the way that Saïx was still so insufferably noncompliant despite the starvation plan. In fact, he would almost say that the patient was being defiant. He was about to have to reinstate meal plans; he didn't want his patient to die. He decided that he would give Saïx one more day before trying something different.

His approach would be slightly modified today – after all, one couldn't do the same experiment repeatedly and expect different results. He gave the door a sharp rap in the way that he had noticed other doctors doing. Evidently it made people more comfortable with another person entering their quarters. Illogical, but interesting to observe and examine nonetheless.

He slowly opened the door to find Saïx uncharacteristically still asleep in his cot. Strange.

"Saïx," he said unhesitatingly, prodding him stiffly with his open palm. "You should have been awakened by now."

"I'm awake," he said quietly, before sitting up. "You knocked."

Xemnas was left to wonder whether this was an explanation for his state of wakefulness or a comment on his action for its own merits.

"I did. Is that incorrect?"

"No, just strange from an asshole like you." He said this without any tone to his voice. Xemnas hated it when people did that, it made it that much more difficult to interpret what they were saying. He much preferred when people were blunt about what they were feeling – one strange thing about humans was that they tended to expect others to understand what they meant even when they didn't say it.

"Explain."

"Not important," Saïx said with something that might have been a half-smile.

Xemnas cleared his throat impatiently. The patient was starting the day by being noncompliant. Not acceptable.

"Saïx, would you give me the specifics of your case?"

"Alright."

He paused for a second with a sigh, then, realizing what the patient had said, did a quick double-take.

"…Excuse me?"

"I said alright," he said with a grin. Clearly he was happy about something, but that seemed like a strange response to finally giving in.

"…Why?" he asked suspiciously. He had learned to be wary when he did not understand people's reactions.

"Well, you finally used my name."

Xemnas blinked, then furrowed his brow in confusion.

"Is that important?" Names seemed to hold some sort of power to cause patients to follow orders. Interesting. He would note that.

"Immensely," he responded, stretching lazily and sliding out of bed. He sat on the side and crossed his arms stiffly. Possibly his bed was unsatisfactory? Xemnas would remedy that if the patient continued to be compliant.

"Details, then," he continued. "I was interred four years ago after almost killing my brother, but I'm sure you already knew that. And of course, on the full moon, I transform into a wolf; I don't give a damn if you can see it or not. I still hold that no matter what causes it, I am transformed during that time."

"I see." Xemnas paused, realizing quickly upon a passing search that he was without his notepad. He opted instead to just listen – his memory was quite extraordinary, after all. He would note important facts later. He shifted slightly, then continued.

"Why did you attempt to kill your brother?" This was what he truly wanted to know – the sort of data of which his fact sheets could not accurately inform him.

"He made me angry." Saïx paused for a minute, baring his teeth. "They – my family – had me tied up every full moon. And my brother would come in and mock me. One day, I decided that I wouldn't take it any more." He paused to take a deep breath. "He brought it on himself."

"You feel the need to injure people when they mock you?" Xemnas asked with as much confused interest as he had possibly ever felt. This man was a perfect case study.

"Only when I am in that form. Another side-effect is that I become very, very angry. I lose rational thought. I will destroy my surroundings if left to my own devices."

"Very interesting. I shall have to observe that." He paused. "I assume you are now restrained with a straitjacket?"

"Only if it is exceptionally powerful. I am injected daily with a medicine that allows me to retain some rational thought during this time. I am not often dangerous," he said, looking down. Xemnas wondered for a moment what caused this change in demeanor, or if it even was a change worth noting.

"Note taken. However, that is not why I came today."

Saïx gave him a look that he didn't quite understand.

"Why did you come, then?"

Xemnas gave the room a quick perusal, eyes lingering on the bedside table, on the chair, on anyplace that might hide something else.

"I understand that you have a collection of books somewhere in this room that are unauthorized."

Saïx's face drew together in what Xemnas could only describe as anger. He contemplated dispassionately that he was glad he could not get angry; that face appeared distinctly uncomfortable from an observer's perspective.

"Hell if I show you where," he said with a snarl.

"No, you misunderstand. I do not intend to take your contraband from you. My object today is to study your capability for analysis."

Saïx paused, then moved off his bed and onto the understuffed armchair, apparently avoiding the large tear in the left arm. Xemnas thought he might have seen claw marks on the edges, but he couldn't be sure from this distance.

"Alright then, how do you plan to do that?" the patient asked, arms crossed. A closed position.

"You have read Plato, I assume?" Saïx's position relaxed slightly at the mention of the philosopher's name.

"Yes."

"And you have an understanding of mathematics."

"Of course."

"Then to you I pose this question, to which you must formulate a fully supported answer: to what extent can one attain complete certainty in mathematics? Evaluate the role of 'truth' in that field. I will offer counterpoints."

Saïx smiled slowly, little by little, until his fangs were bared and Xemnas noticed a curious glint in his eye.

He was almost wild at this moment, but despite his animality, Xemnas felt himself almost anticipating their coming discussion. The man smiled in return, before they turned together and, fists and intellects bared, walked into battle.

XXX

Zexion winced as, with Demyx's help, he squeezed through the small metal grate onto the roof. The blonde was laughing at him a little, maybe – so he wasn't the best at climbing, what of it? – but he didn't really mind.

The view from the roof was stunning for a man who spent all his days indoors tending to people less fortunate than he. But now, on the roof, they were surrounded on three sides by wood – a park, he seemed to recall, though he had never had occasion to go there – and he smiled as he saw, almost obscured by the shadow of a cloud, the silhouette of a falcon diving fore its prey. Zexion closed his eyes halfway, just enjoying the moment – it had been quite a while since his last break, and the wind on his face felt amazing.

"Like it?" Demyx asked from his position sitting beside his friend on the air duct.

"It's amazing." He paused. "Thank you. I… think that I might have needed this. It's been a while."

Demyx flashed his companion a quick grin.

"You know, that might be the most I've ever heard you say about yourself."

Zexion gave a quiet laugh.

"Is it really? Sorry. There's not much to say, though."

"Sure there is. I told you, you're an interesting guy. I bet you have a good story."

There was a silence for a moment as Zexion tried to figure out what, exactly, in his life could be considered interesting.

"Well." He paused. "I just graduated from med school at Hollow Bastion Magnet Medical. I got out of high school and undergrad both a year early, then finished med school in three years also."

"So you were one of those genius kids," he stated matter-of-factly. "A-list school and all."

Zexion laughed.

"Not exactly. Hardworking I guess. Didn't ever do much else other than schoolwork, really. But all that led to me graduating early, and then the people here wanted me even though I'm just 23. So here I am."

"Really? You're that young?" he blurted out before slapping a hand over his mouth as he realized his social gaffe. "I didn't mean that the way it came out, honest."

"It's fine, really. I don't mind," Zexion responded amusedly. "It's not really important at all."

Demyx's countenance changed swiftly to one of relief.

"Oh, that's good then. I have this nasty habit of sticking my foot in my mouth at the worst times, you see."

"Gets me into trouble sometimes actually." He paused, obviously trying to change the subject. "So what's your family like?"

Zexion decided that he was going to at least make the attempt to be talkative. At least Demyx seemed to be interested.

"…I have no siblings. My father's a civil engineer, and my mother's a first lieutenant in the Army. She's a codebreaker and a translator – the jobs coincide quite often – plus she teaches Krav Maga at one of the training centers when she's not on active duty."

"That's very interesting. I'd like to meet your mother, too." He paused, then grinned. "So, you any good at that Krav Maga stuff? It's pretty badass."

"Not very good, no."

"Bet you're just being modest."

But before they could discuss it any further, they heard a shout and a crash from what sounded like nearby. Zexion sat up with a start at the noise, looking all around for the source – then suddenly, the floor below them began to emanate sounds of chaos, and they heard the shouting voice carry through the air duct towards them.

"How the fuck did you _lose_ him?! You don't lose guys in an asylum, it's like a goddamn prison. It's not like they have somewhere to _go_, goddammit!"

Zexion looked over, about to pull Demyx back into the air duct with him to see what the commotion was; but he noticed that, suddenly, a grin had broken out over the blonde's face like he'd never seen on the boy before.

"It's Axel," he said without a hint of doubt.

And with that, Demyx was back through their little rabbit hole into wonderland, disappearing quickly, in one smooth motion, and grinning like a maniac.

XXX

Axel was more than just furious. Axel was flaming pissed. It had taken him two months to get the kind of clearance it took to be allowed inside the Hollow Bastion Correctional Facility – goddamn background check and all of that – and then when he finally got there, Demyx had gone and _fucking disappeared_.

He gave another glare to the redheaded nurse, who seemed about on the verge of giving him a verbal whipping, and probably would as soon as she was no longer hurriedly trying to regain some kind of order in the rec room. Axel had started yelling, and one of the crazies in the corner had evidently been scared so she dropped her glass, and when it shattered the whole place went to hell. It was chaotic enough, with enough crying and screaming, that his anger couldn't hold up under the pressure of the noise.

He almost felt guilty for the whole thing. But not quite. These people obviously needed some excitement in their lives – adrenaline did a body good, after all.

He crossed his arms and watched the mayhem with a kind of half-grin that was reserved for accidental mischief. On a small scale, anyway.

He, however, was distracted almost the moment afterwards by the floor meeting his face much more rapidly than he had ever intended. It took him just a few seconds on the floor to realize that there was a body on top of him, and a voice jabbering along; and after another ten seconds he put it together.

"Goddammit, Demyx, you're not allowed to do that from behind. If you shattered my nose, you get to pay for the nose job." He heard a laugh from above him, and he realized what he'd said. "Not for me, dumbass, for you, 'cause I'm gonna give you one to match. Now get the hell off."

Axel was slow getting up even after Demyx complied, rubbing his injured nose but more worried about his injured dignity.

"Axel, I'm so glad you're here! I didn't think I'd see you again till I got out!" he said exuberantly. Another man – a doctor, apparently – was watching the whole scene with a look of amusement. He wondered briefly if he was going to get escorted out for causing mayhem, even though it was dying down now, but figured he'd ignore that until it was actually a problem.

"Yeah, well, what are band-mates for, yeah?" Axel and Demyx had been two of three starting members of an alt-rock band that had lasted for a couple of years before Demyx was sent away and become fairly sought-after in Hollow Bastion, even making a trip or two to Twilight Town.

"I mean, I have so much to tell you and I'm sure you have a bunch to tell me – oh Axel, this is Zexion and vice versa – I've written a couple of new songs now even if I can't practice them… and by the way, where's Larxene?" Demyx finally stopped for a breath and Axel wondered momentarily if the kid was even human. Should try out for the special forces underwater ops with lungs like that. Or Broadway. Whichever.

"Um… yeah, about Larxene…" He drifted off for a moment, not wanting to get to the point. Larxene was the third member of their band, a fantastically witty bitch with something of a mean streak but a meaner soprano. She'd been trained for church music from a young age, and had actually been getting pretty famous across the nation for her classical music, in her own right. But one day, about when she hit thirteen, she up and decided that there was no God after all. She then proceeded to join a rock band, and take great pleasure in singing and writing songs with names like "666" and "To Hell with Heaven, Sin's More Fun."

Demyx gave him a pained look, and his expression turned sheepish.

"Yeah, well, she's kind of in jail."

"Jail?!" he said with an expression of alarm, crossing his arms tightly. Axel guessed it helped him deal with the shock, or something. Whatever worked for him. "Jailed for what?!"

"Ah, that's the thing. Y'see, I don't actually know."

"…You don't know." Demyx gave him a skeptical look, and he put his hands up in defense.

"No really. You see, she kind of changes the story every time. Yesterday she said she raped the Mayor. She went into more detail on that but I think I'll spare you for now. The week before, though, it was armed robbery of Leon's house – you know, _the_ Leon of action movie fame – with one of those little knives on the end of old guns. What are they called? Bayonets."

Demyx gave an astonished little laugh.

"She's quite creative, isn't she?"

Axel gave him a smirk.

"That's why she's our lyricist. Anyway, the outside's not the same without you, pansy." That was meant as a term of endearment; Demyx knew that. Ought to know that. Oh well. "So I came to visit you in here. Took me two whole fuckin' months to get in here and then when I do get here, you're not here at _all_. Where'd you disappear to, anyway?"

"Long story, I'll tell you later." Axel wondered why he'd cut the conversation off until he followed Demyx's frightened gaze over his shoulder and was surprised – not startled, honest! – by the flaring nurse from earlier, only now she was directly behind him and looking livid.

"Uh, hi?" he said with a lopsided grin, hoping to deflect her anger with his roguish good looks. Axel _always_ scored with the ladies. Guys too.

"Don't you start with me, mister," she said, hands on her hips and eyes flashing. She was pretty hot, really. "You have a bunch of explaining to do. How did you get in here? Visiting rights are _strictly_ limited. And what right do you have to come barging in here, yelling and screaming and upsetting poor Maria! She's got the shakes now, thanks to you."

"Lighten up a little, girlie. The frown might stick."

"Lighten up?" Now her hands were waving in the air emphatically, making almost cutting motions in the air. "Lighten up!? This is a medical facility, and you think you can just barge in here and break all the rules and do whatever it is you want. Well I don't know who you think you are, but I have news for you. You're not welcome here as long as you make the lives of my patients difficult!"

Axel blew a quiet whistle as she turned on her heel and walked away – feisty, that one. Well, Axel had always liked playing with fire.

"Hey sugar, you at least going to give me your number before you go?" he asked with a grin even though she couldn't see it.

"Bug off," she spat over her shoulder, and soon she was out the door, presumably to tell someone with the authority to get Axel out of there.

As soon as she was out of earshot, he turned to Demyx with a grin of disbelief. Demyx's look of disbelief almost matched his, only without the amusement.

"Hot _damn_, she's a catch. She single? What's her name?"

Demyx gave him a strange look. Axel wasn't entirely sure what it was for, and he wasn't going to bother to find out. Thinking about it, it might have been the order of his questions. But important crap first, of course.

"Kairi. Yeah, she's single, but she's best friends with one of the toughest cops that's seen a beat in years. Riku. You don't really wanna mess with her, promise. She's not your type anyway."

Axel sighed in put-on resignation, but his grin got even bigger.

"Got some tough friends, huh. And not really my type at all, I bet she's into that whole relationships thing, but she's pretty goddamn sexy."

Demyx gave him an exasperated sigh, then looked back to the doctor – Zexion – and gave him a look too.

"God help him if he's after Kairi, right, Zexy? He'd be better off going for Naminé if he just wants someone cute, she's less dangerous. Not that I'm suggesting that, mind you," the blonde assured his companion frantically, obviously not wanting to get ideas into Axel's head. He'd just store them for later, then.

"Who's going after Naminé?" cut in someone from behind them curiously. Axel turned quickly to see who it was, and then suddenly felt all the wind leave him suddenly as if he'd been punched. The blonde spiky hair, those eyes – there could be no mistake.

"Roxas?!" Axel blurted in astonishment, one hand frozen with shock halfway through rearranging his badly dyed hair.

He had never expected to see Roxas again, ever – much less in a place like this. But he was grateful. Dear god he was grateful.


	3. Chapter 3

First Author's Note: thought I'd comment that liberties taken with Saïx's character are taken willfully and knowingly. I felt that given his condition, I had license to make him rather angrier than he is in canon.

Thank you for reading, please tell me if you enjoyed it!

**Chapter 3**

Demyx blinked slowly, trying to comprehend the exchange between his bandmate and the new blonde.

"Axel? Do you know him?"

The expression of delighted shock on his friend's face answered him almost before he himself did.

"Roxas? Hell yes I know Roxas. How've you been? What the hell're ya doin' in a place like this?"

The boy – apparently Roxas – gave Axel a blank stare that put to shame any Demyx had ever seen before.

"Excuse me?" he responded in confusion.

"Roxas, Roxas! You remember me, don't you? I know it's been a while, but… it's Axel. I haven't changed that much, have I?"

The blonde closed his eyes and shook his head sadly, and Demyx felt a pang of sympathy as he watched the expression on Axel's face slowly fall.

Roxas opened his eyes suddenly, and grinned in shocked realization.

"So then, my name is Roxas?" he said with a growing expression of excitement, evidently oblivious to Axel's distress. "And you knew me? Where am I from?"

Demyx didn't think he'd ever seen someone more crushed than Axel looked in that moment. He was normally expressive with his motions, now his arms were down mutely by his sides. He hadn't known that was possible.

"Knew you? Man, we were buddies. Best friends. Partners in crime," he said, without a hint of his normal animation.

There was a silence for a moment, as Roxas apparently realized, finally, the reason for the change in the readhead's demeanor and looked away awkwardly.

"Sorry," he finally said, not meeting Axel's eyes. It seemed that it had struck them both, now – that they had both lost an important, integral part of their lives, whether they remembered that part or not. Demyx watched the two and felt the tension grow to an almost visible level. About time, now, to step in; he shared a quick look with Zexion before interrupting the exchange.

"So," he said, walking towards Roxas and putting his hand on the other's shoulder comfortingly, "it's great that we know your name, now, Roxas! Maybe this is the first step to getting you out of here. Do you know where he's from, Axel?" He was repeating the question from earlier, which the other had evidently forgotten in his distraction. He fixed Axel with a look that clearly said "we'll talk later." The other didn't miss it.

"Well… I knew him as a middle-schooler and in the beginning of high school, but he moved away middle of sophomore year… so three years ago, then? I haven't seen him since. He left kind of suddenly, and didn't leave a contact number, no address, nothing."

The inflection in his voice changed none as he spoke, but Demyx had known him too long and knew him too well for that to fool him. Axel was hurt, very hurt. He opened his mouth and shut it again, realizing that this wasn't the time to pose the question he had been about to ask.

"Huh, so you don't know where he moved to?" the blonde asked instead.

"Nope, sorry." He was still staring rather directly at Roxas, with an expression of disbelief and sadness, tinged with a bit of wonder. The poor boy was looking distinctly uncomfortable, however, so he'd wrap it up quick.

"What about a last name?"

At this, Axel gave a sheepish smile and a shrug, and Demyx was glad to see him with some life in his face again.

"I dunno that either. It wasn't really important to us then. It's not like we called each other anything but our first names, never met the families, and didn't really have any classes together either. Mostly 'cause I skipped but whatever." He gave a laugh at this, and the tension in the air eased slightly.

"But… you really don't remember anything," Axel said quietly, only halfway to Roxas.

"No, I'm sorry… I wish that I did." Demyx gave the boy a quick hug, figuring that whatever the other blonde was feeling right now, a hug would cover it.

"Ah, well then. 'm just gonna have to make you remember, won't I?" he said, and with a grin that was purposeful but not forced, his normal demeanor returned, likely because Axel wasn't willing to show weakness for long. But also, he wasn't one to dwell, and Demyx had known him long enough to know that when he wanted something, he got it through sheer determination.

"That's the spirit, then. I'd love to get you two reacquainted," he said with a grin to both, "but Roxas needs to go check in with his nurse. _Right, Roxas?_" he said with a pointed stare in the blonde's direction.

"Uh… yeah. Naminé'll be looking for me," he said, grateful for a chance to get out of the situation until such time as he could think about it, most likely. This was quite a curveball for the poor kid to be thrown unexpectedly. "See you later," he said with a nod to Axel before beating a quick retreat.

Demyx fixed Zexion with a look of apology as Roxas trotted away – he wasn't really much of a social person at all, and his discomfort in this situation was obvious, though he hadn't wanted to draw attention to himself by leaving, it seemed. As soon as the boy was out the door, Demyx turned back to his doctor.

"Sorry, Zexy. If it's not a problem, though, I'd like some alone time with Axel?"

"Not a problem at all," he responded. "Thanks for earlier. I… well, it was worth it." And watching his retreating back, Demyx couldn't help but celebrate a little, internally – this was one battle he was quickly winning. Now back to the other.

Zexion left silently, and it was only moments before he had escorted Axel out of the rec room and into a smaller, private room, smirking internally at Axel's bewildered face as he was dragged and pulled around by his smaller friend. As soon as they were alone, he turned to Axel with a knowing look.

"You're in love with him, aren't you? Spill it."

Axel's shocked reaction was instantaneous and amusing.

"What?! I… no! It's not like that with Roxas and me."

"Just because he's oblivious – or was oblivious – doesn't mean you're not in love with him."

"I wouldn't put Roxas in that position anyway," he said indignantly.

"So he wouldn't just be one of your random fuckbuddies, _that_ at least is good to know. I wouldn't let you fuck around with the new kid. This is probably pretty traumatic for him anyway. So when are you going to make your move?" he said with a sly grin.

"Who said I was making any moves on him? He needs to get re-adjusted to life."

"Ah-ha! So you admit you want to."

Axel gave Demyx a withering glare that he just laughed off.

"Fuckin' busybody. Messin' with other people's business," he muttered darkly.

"So when'd you fall in love with him?"

"Just 'cause I'd like to get some of that doesn't mean I'm in _love_ with the kid."

"But you admitted that he wasn't going to be one of your fuckbuddies. The love 'em's and leave 'em's . If you were going to do that, I'd be telling him to stay the fuck away from you, Don Juan."

Despite completely missing the reference, Axel again couldn't respond. Demyx was way too good at backing him into a corner.

"Fine, then, you're right," he spat with frustration, "I was in love with the kid back when we knew each other, then he up and fuckin' left me with hardly two words and now he's _back_ and he doesn't even _remember_ me. This is kind of confusing for me, ok? Gimme a bit to sort it out, I'm getting claustrophobic. Back the fuck down."

Demyx frowned momentarily before giving his friend a look of apology.

"Sorry, it's just… you've never really been in a healthy relationship before, you know? I'd like to see you with someone you really cared about. Someone who really cared about you. Not that _that_'s usually the problem," he said, as un-accusingly as he could manage.

Axel gave him a small smile in return.

"Yeah, I know. It's just… I mean, I don't wanna fuck with the kid and I don't want him fuckin' with me," he gave a sly grin, "except for maybe in the literal sense." He sobered down a bit before continuing. "Who knows if he's even interested in guys. So I think I'm going to settle for getting to know him again. Being friends."

"Sounds fair enough," Demyx said with a slow grin. He'd pull a few strings, then, to keep the others from banning Axel from the facilities. Because he had suspected this before, and now it was confirmed – Axel and Roxas would be the best damn things for each other that had happened since either of them could remember, in all of their fucked-up lives.

XXX

Xemnas walked into Saïx's room, cool and calm as always, which was hardly a surprise. Saïx had been up for fifteen minutes now, and had been expecting him; what was really the surprise was the large contraption that entered the room at his back, pushed evidently by some of his personal lackeys.

"What's this?" he asked apprehensively.

"We're going to be doing some tests," Xemnas replied without any telling inflection, in the way he was so good at doing. His dark skin stood out against the white of everything else, in a way that made sure that everyone was looking at him, paying perfect attention to him, whether the man knew it or not.

"What kind of tests?" he asked, voice deep and harsh from discomfort. He didn't like this at all; a machine of that size foreboded trouble. His pale yellow eyes roved the room, taking apart the machine from a distance – what kind of tests could they run on him? Legally they couldn't run any kinds of tests on him that weren't directly related to his treatment, but he knew already that Xemnas didn't particularly pay attention to trivialities like law.

"You will find out soon enough, let me assure you. Please, sit down."

"No."

"…Do not be noncompliant today. I had listed you as acquiescent, and decided that it was time to begin my proper work on you," he said, confused. "You decided only yesterday to cooperate with me, did you not?"

"Yes, but you had no _machine_ with you. I was answering a simple question of yours because you also did something that I wanted. I'm not going to let you hook me up to this _thing_," he spat that out with as much disdain as he could muster, "in order to satisfy your perverted curiosity." His voice was steady as he crossed his arms, and he stared Xemnas down purposefully. He was determined not to allow this man to demean him any more than he already had. He wouldn't allow it.

"But is not satisfying curiosity one of the objectives of science?" Xemnas responded with a half smirk.

"Not at the expense of dignity."

"Will you at least hear me out?" Xemnas asked. He must have realized that Saïx wasn't going to give in on this point and moved on. The patient gave a curt nod, indicating both his agreement and his displeasure with the situation.

"I am going to hook you up to this machine to record your body's responses to certain stimuli. We will track your eyes, your brain wave patterns, muscular reaction, and hormonal response to various situations." He gestured minutely in the direction of every part as he said the function, and Saïx couldn't help but be mildly intrigued. Despite the dehumanizing aspect of it, he, too was curious to see how his reactions measured up to those of an average person.

"I resent your assumption that I will comply," he said anyway, in a token defense.

"My apologies. Will you _please_ take part in this," he said without sounding particularly apologetic.

Saïx paused for a moment, then finally decided to relent.

"…I'm curious about this machine, in honesty," he said grudgingly. "I wish to see how my reactions compare to those of normal human beings."

Xemnas gave him a smirk that said he had expected this.

"Please, then, sit down."

Saïx did, and no sooner had his back touched the chair than he was instantly bound to it, in such a way that his body or legs could not move but his arms and head could.

"What's the meaning of this?" he snarled, eyes wild with an animalistic terror. The lackeys – lab assistants, maybe? – lined up against the back wall with little notepads, looking like carbon-copies of Xemnas though they didn't have his coloring. The thought pissed him off royally, but being restrained automatically turned on his survival instincts, and the terror overrode the anger, for once.

Xemnas was watching with evident fascination, one hand on a pad and his eyes examining every part of his patient.

"That's interesting. This was not part of the experiment, but it will do quite nicely," he said, raptly watching Saïx's struggles. He hated traps – _hated_ them – hated being bound down to something and unable to move.

"_Fuck you_, you goddamn asshole. For a bit there I thought that maybe you had a heart buried down in there below your stoic bastard outside, but clearly I was mistaken. Let me out of this, this _isn't_ what I agreed to." His arms were flailing, and though it might look wild to a viewer, Saïx knew that he was really trying to reach Xemnas's throat.

"You cannot pick and choose which parts of an experiment you will take part in," he said with a glint in his eye that the patient didn't like at all. "Once you sit down in that chair, you are bound to complete it, both by honor… and by leather."

It occurred to Saïx that those words were possibly the closest thing he'd ever heard Xemnas make to a joke, but he was hardly in the mood to appreciate it.

"I can get a lawyer," he growled viciously, trying to tear at his restraints and doing more damage to his own legs than he did to the straps. "I can call a lawyer and they can get your ass in jail."

"Don't be an idiot, you have no telephone," he shot back, "and even if you did, what judge is going to take the word of a lunatic over the word of a well-respected scientist? And it's all for the betterment of human nature, so it would be in all of our best interest if you just _silenced yourself_."

Saïx didn't respond to that – there was nothing to say that hadn't already been said, after all, and it seemed that none of his entreaties would move either this man or the others who watched, quietly fascinated by the whole process. Well, let them watch. He was going to outdo any human, just keep excelling over and over and over until they respected him, until _Xemnas_ respected him, because despite everything, he couldn't help but respect the man, for his mind if not for his methods.

XXX

The tests were all fairly routine and standard – tests of his five senses, then his strength, reflexes, IQ. It occurred to Saïx that he didn't necessarily understand why he had to be tied down during it. It didn't really make any sense.

That was, until the last portion of the test. He had expected something, again, routine and normal – but instead, one of Xemnas's little assistants brought in a small she-dog, a husky perhaps with a hint of wolf. He looked sharply up at his examiner, looking to find answers, and found none.

"What's the meaning of this?" he said cuttingly.

"This is another test. The bitch is in heat – so she is emitting pheromones. I intend to see how you react."

Saïx stared silently for a moment, temporarily dumfounded, feeling truly humiliated for the first time through this whole process. As soon as he processed it, he felt the anger begin to bubble up in him.

"You _fucking asshole," _he snapped, voice deep and dangerous, every word sparkling with venom. "This has no possible scientific merit. I am _not _an animal_. _Even when I transform_, my mind is still human. _I am not going to be turned on by a _dog._"

Xemnas's expression didn't change.

"Nevertheless, here you are and here it is. You are obliged, now, to stay until science has been satisfied. You do not have the option of not participating." He was entirely deadpan – apparently he either didn't understand or just didn't care how demeaning the whole situation was for the other man.

"This isn't _science_, it's _sadism._"

"You," the doctor said accusingly, "are allowing your personal emotions to influence your opinions and actions regarding science. That is most unprofessional. I expected better."

"And it's unethical to inflict humiliation on a person in the name of research."

The dog squirmed in the assistant's arms, and Saïx had to resist his impulse to lash out at the dog, just so she would run away and he would have taken control of his situation. But he wouldn't take it out on her. He wouldn't sink to that man's level.

Xemnas did not respond, instead writing more down on that infernal notepad. Saïx wondered for a moment where, exactly, Xemnas kept the damn thing – because it would be worth all the repercussions just to burn it.

"Noted… patient shows no attraction to animals of his own perceived race," he said quietly, thinking aloud, and Saïx's anger grew. He _told_ him so, after all.

Suddenly, then, the straps released themselves, and Saïx was free – and he leapt with deadly precision straight at Xemnas's notebook, but the man pocketed it swiftly before his patient's claws could reach it.

"I hope that you weren't intending to injure that, because if you had, we would have been obligated to repeat the experiment," he said icily, meeting the patient's stare. The inmate noted with pride that this was the first time today he had managed to get a reaction out of the doctor. "And," Xemnas continued, "let me make quite clear that should you be destructive again, we can scour your room with the intention of removing any… contraband, that you may have stashed away here."

Saïx winced – Demyx had made it in yesterday with a new stack of Classics – a Shakespeare compilation, Dante, and Copernicus. He hadn't gotten to read them all yet.

"You wouldn't," he stated simply, "because whatever books I may have in here fuel the discussions you've been so keen on having with me."

There was a silence, and then Xemnas broke it with a short laugh.

"Indeed, you are correct on that note; but I noticed that you did not lose any weight when we were taking away your sustenance. I must therefore assume that _someone,_" the emphasis made it perfectly clear that he knew who, or at least who was orchestrating it, "has been sneaking food in to you along with your books."

The inmate scowled – that man was entirely too smart for his own good. Or for Saïx's good, anyway.

"Well, if you stop being a bastard, then maybe I'll begin to comply."

Xemnas's perplexed silence made it clear that he wasn't exactly sure what made him a bastard, but Saïx wasn't about to inform him.

"I shall do my best," the darker man replied. "I expect, then, for you to be compliant."

"Only as long as you are."

There was a silence in response, before Xemnas motioned to his lab assistants with his hand that they should get out. Saïx only vaguely noticed as his nails dug into the palms of his clenched fists – his anger was such that he felt pride in his ability to keep himself from injuring the man before him. But it occurred to him that, come the full moon, there would be a reckoning; and the good doctor would be in for a surprise.

As soon as all of the lab assistants had left and the door was shut, Xemnas turned back towards Saïx, white hair swaying with the force of his motions.

"Why do you respond to me in this manner?" he asked darkly. "I have not injured you, I have not asked you to perform beyond your capabilities, so then why must you disrespect me and respond in anger?"

"Hurting a person's dignity can be more painful to them than hurting them physically," he responded coolly. "For what then can we be if we are not human? If we cannot be human, we cannot be aught else. You treat me like a lower being, and that is vice."

"Ah, but 'Virtuous and vicious every man must be, few in th' extreme, but all in the degree,'" Xemnas responded. "'No creature owns it in the first degree, but thinks his neighbor farther gone than he.'" He paused. "Alexander Pope. You cannot be sure that you, in your self-righteous rage, are not indeed less virtuous than I. To whose definition of virtue might we subscribe?"

"We might subscribe to the same definition of virtue as the human race itself does – 'do not injure without cause' would be a start. You cannot live in a society with such a radically different definition of acceptability. Rules are set in place to maintain order. You cannot disregard them so callously."

Saïx was hardly thinking about the irony of the situation – he himself had injured others both with words and actions many times, for his own benefit and for no reason at all. But he was caught up in his own self-righteous pride, and the _ideal_ of virtue had always been more important to him than virtue itself.

"Are you stating that I should never disagree with my society? Majority rule, and all that. A great herd of people all heading in the same direction."

"No. But there are certain rules you should follow if you want any respect or regard from your fellow humans."

"I can do without," the doctor responded curtly.

"We'll see, won't we? It is much better, I think, to not _have _to do without, because relationships provide some stimulation, some relief from the monotony of everyday life. Everyone needs someone to fight with or life grows stale."

"To fight with? Like you and I fight?" Xemnas said without any apparent understanding of the implications of his statement.

There was a silence.

"I'm not quite sure that you could count this as a human relationship. You can't have a bond until both of you acknowledge the other as human, for a start."

"You are a human being and a fascinating example of the human condition." Xemnas paused.

"And that's why you and I are not friends or even comrades. Because you do not understand me and I do not understand you."

"But I intend to. You fascinate me."

There was another silence, longer and drawn out, as Saïx struggled for words to express his surprise. Eventually, lacking any other way to respond to that, he gave Xemnas a curt nod and swept off into the other room, not entirely sure whether to be pleased with this new turn of events. He heard the door open and shut, then closed his eyes with frustration, and made a heavy swipe at the wall. Feeling his claws tear through the plaster like that somewhat soothed him, and he smiled grimly – as much as he and Xemnas might connect on an intellectual level, still the doctor did not see the other man as an equal.

And so though they might be friends or comrades, now or in the future – they were still truly enemies at the core.

XXX

Demyx's plan started simply: keep Axel in the building. Preferably permanently if that could be arranged. And he knew the best place he could go for extra idea of what he was going to say, or anything other than a really big smile.

"Hey Zexy… can I ask you a favor?" he said sweetly when the doctor came to the door, not even giving him a chance to say anything at all.

Zexion looked at him suspiciously, but let him in, where he promptly sat down on one of the nice leather chairs against the dark gold walls. All in all, a very classy outfit – Demyx was vaguely surprised that he had been allowed to paint it any color other than white. But then, the doctor had never looked particularly good in white.

"What's your favor?" he asked from behind the curtain of his bangs, arms crossed. He obviously felt the beginnings of a scheme coming on. Well, he'd be right.

"Can we somehow… arrange for Axel not to get kicked out of the building?"

Zexion raised an eyebrow.

"He was kind of wreaking havoc. We don't really need him here."

"But Zexy," he said pleadingly, eyes wide like he was about to burst into tears. It was a technique he had perfected years ago, and it definitely seemed to be serving him well at the moment. "Axel and Roxas just got reunited. They were best friends, you know. Axel was in love with him, even. I just want to give them a chance."

There was a silence afterwards, and Demyx didn't quite get why.

"You probably weren't intended to share that info," the doctor said with a half-smile.

Oh, crap. Axel probably wouldn't be thrilled. Oh well – it's not like he hadn't done stuff like this before. His mouth sometimes just opened up and spilled things out he'd never actually intended to say.

"Oops?" the blonde said sheepishly. "Well, Axel never has to know that you know, right? Anyway… I was kind of also wondering if you might could get him a room here? Not to inter him, but, you know, just for him to stay here."

Both Zexion's eyebrows shot up at that. The blonde noted with interest that that was the most reaction his actions had gotten from the man yet.

"That's breaking so many rules."

"Yeah, I know, but it's important. Come on, Zexy?"

There was a long silence, and Demyx looked around the room awkwardly as Zexion thought.

"…I'll see what I can do. I might be able to fake him a transfer in… and if it's a voluntary transfer, he'll be able to leave whenever he likes."

Demyx's grin at the news was almost blinding in its brightness.

"Thanks, Zexy! You have no idea how much this means to me." He shot up off the leather chair and all but launched himself onto Zexion for a thank-you hug. It was a good thing that Zexion had good balance, because he stayed upright through the tackle even though he was most definitely not expecting it, judging by the expression on his face.

Demyx grinned internally as he felt the hug awkwardly returned with one arm. At last, he was getting somewhere. He might yet catch his prey before Axel caught his; he was already halfway there, it seemed.

He didn't quite let go before starting on his next train of thought.

"Ok then, they also might make some trouble. I'm thinking… might we turn a blind eye?"

"We?"

"You, then."

"…I can't allow a big disruption of these people's lives. Many of the inmates here thrive on the consistency we provide."

"Then monitor them a bit more carefully for the next week or so, and I'll let Axel know about that kinda stuff. But please? I mean, in the name of love."

Zexion sighed, and the expression on his face looked to be halfway between a grin and a scowl, so it ended up looking kind of like he swallowed something sour. Confusion.

"Fine. Just… keep this kind of low, we don't need Vexen or Marluxia finding out about this, they'll have my head faster than you could blink."

Demyx wasn't sure whether to smile or not, because the expression on Zexion's face left it unclear as to whether or not that actually was a joke. The thought made him shiver.

"I'll keep it quiet, promise," he said with a grin.

"…I should probably get back to work then," the doctor said reluctantly, unable to quite convince himself that tearing the blonde off him was quite as vital as his head seemed to tell him it was.

"Probably," Demyx agreed without letting go. Life was so much more fun with a sexy man in your arms, after all – but sadly, duty called, and he had some strings to pull before the day was through. Finally, he released his hold on the older man, turning back towards the doorway with a two-fingered salute he'd picked up from Axel and a grin.

"Thanks again, Zexy. You're a lifesaver."

Then, he turned and walked out the door, smiling widely; because if all had gone according to plan, he should have left a rather confused and interested Zexion back in that room. He vaguely remembered something - a pamphlet, maybe? -saying that relationships between doctors and patients were against the rules – but what were rules, anyway, in the face of romance? Nothing, that's what.

His next stop wasn't precisely a step in his plan to ultimately get Axel and Roxas in bed together, but it was necessary just the same, only for someone else's sake. Lately he'd barely been visiting Saïx at all, and though the other inmate did not appear to hate all the time he spent with the Superior, his frustration must be at a breaking point about now. That man treated people like slaves to do his bidding, and Saïx was probably going stir-crazy by now with no visitors allowed.

So he knocked on Saïx's door quietly and, hearing no response, entered, only to find Saïx standing right next to three gaping, claw-sized slashes in the wall, which he was examining intently with an expression that couldn't quite be called amusement, but almost.

"Saïx? What happened here?" Demyx asked cautiously, not walking too close to the other man, just in case his fit of anger decided to return.

"Nothing of importance. I was frustrated, and attacked the wall. I can put plaster in it and it will be almost unnoticeable."

"…You have plaster?" the blonde asked incredulously.

"Yes," he responded, apparently without seeing any need to explain further. The plaster was probably Zexion's doing, though.

"…Alright then, so I can assume your meeting with Xemnas didn't go so well…?" he asked casually, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorway in between Saïx's two rooms.

"…You might say that."

The blonde's ears perked up in response. He could tell something interesting coming from a mile away.

"Oh? What else might you say?"

There was a pause, and Xemnas pointedly did not look at Demyx in favor of the television set.

"You might say that he is a very confusing man."

"How so?" Demyx wasn't letting this go. The fact that Saïx was confused about this man meant he didn't outright hate the guy – and that seemed to be the reaction of most people upon meeting Xemnas. That was, then, quite an accomplishment.

"He humiliates me, then indicates that he might consider me a friend."

Demyx's eyebrows shot up at that. He didn't know Xemnas all that well, but he bet that the number of people the doctor considered "friends" could easily be counted on one hand. Or on a closed fist.

"…A friend. Really." A pause. "Isn't that strange," he commented more than asked.

"It is."

There was another pause while the blonde collected his thoughts.

"The fact that he would even say that though… indicates that he might like you and respect you more than almost anyone else," he said slowly, with more than a little surprise. "Even if he doesn't know that yet."

"…I sincerely doubt that. The man still considers me a dog."

"So he's a little immobile. When you have a stick for a spine it's kind of hard to be bendy. You've just gotta get the stick _out_ and I'm sure he'll bend all kinds of ways," Demyx said with a sly grin. He was beginning to think that he'd have more than one job on his hands.

After recovering from the instant shock, Saïx gave him a look of pure disdain. But it was totally worth it for the look on his face in that one instant.

"What? It's true. There's obviously some sexual tension going on here." Demyx had never even stopped twice to think about either's sexual orientation. He just _knew_ things like that.

"…" Saïx was trying unsuccessfully to stare Demyx down, but he was _extremely_ difficult to intimidate.

"No seriously, you just need to let loose and fuck each other, then everything will be better."

"I resent your theories. The man is a bastard."

"But he's a _fascinating_ bastard, isn't he?" Demyx said off the top of his head, realizing only after the words were out of his mouth, and he saw Saïx flinch, that he had hit it dead-center.

"Leave," Saïx growled, obviously trying to make himself seem unhappier with that statement than he really was. The blonde wasn't particularly disturbed because he could see the beginnings of amusement twitching around the man's eyes.

"Eh, suit yourself," he said nonchalantly, "but you know you want to give it a try. Seriously, he's not even _here_ and I could cut the sexual tension with a knife."

"Fuck off."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm getting out of here. But seriously, it would be good for you. Besides, doesn't it sound like a good idea?"

And from the look on Saïx's face, he somehow suspected that it did.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Zexion sighed as Demyx left his room, with a little bit of bounce in his step that was endearing more than annoying. Strange, that a boy several years younger than him would be able to prance into his life, smile at him cutely, and demand that every rule be broken just because they got in his way. Even stranger that he didn't mind.

But the doctor was no idiot – he realized that he was infatuated with the boy. The blonde seemed to have a talent for sowing the seeds of adoration left and right wherever he went. He wondered vaguely if that would be a problem before shaking his head and moving on – no good to dwell, after all. He took a few steps forward to his desk and began ruffling around in one of the drawers for the papers that would allow Axel to become a permanent, or at least semi-permanent, resident of the Hollow Bastion Correctional Facility. Or rather, as Demyx had come to call it, Castle Oblivion. Zexion somehow doubted that the redhead had a steady job that he would be away from, so no problems there, at least.

But he also wondered if this would be entirely good for Roxas. While being around someone he knew formerly would undoubtedly be good for his memory, at the same time, being confronted suddenly with the level of affection Axel held for him would be disorienting at best. He thought briefly of slowly getting them used to each other, but nixed it when he realized that Demyx would not approve. They hadn't known each other very long, but Zexion could already tell that he was the sort who was impatient, who wanted results quickly and was adept at getting them that way. He would be amazing in the real world – he would succeed at whatever he did, but a trick of fate kept him locked up in here.

His thoughts were interrupted by a quick knock on his door, and before he had a chance to respond, Xemnas had entered his personal sanctuary, violating it in a way that made Zexion frown and cross his arms with frustration. He didn't take well to people invading his space.

"Can I help you?" he asked in a way that it occurred to him afterwards might have sounded distinctly unhelpful. Xemnas didn't seem to notice, as usual.

"Not now. But you are secondary on Saïx's case, and you will be necessary in the future. When that time comes, I will inform you." There was a pause, and Zexion wondered why in _hell_ the other man had disturbed him just for that.

"Is that all, then?"

Another pause.

"No. Also, in order to prevent complications, it will be necessary to inform all the nurses of a change in Saïx's regimen."

Zexion felt a cold shiver at this man's words, in this man's presence, that he could not recall ever having felt before. This man was crazy, he could feel it – and behind it all, a dangerous, dangerous intelligence.

"And you don't want to inform them yourselves."

"That, yes, and also I want to inform you _in person_," his eyes glinted at those words, "that any insubordination will not be tolerated. It will result in the loss of your job… and your license to practice psychiatry. If you wish to be re-licensed, you may go through medical school again."

Zexion recoiled at these words – this was unnecessarily cruel, horrible, how could he threaten another doctor with the loss of his license? He felt his eyes harden towards the other man slowly, as he lost his respect for the other man, bit by bit.

"Well, what are you doing that would lose me my job if I interfere?" He definitely suspected that whatever this was, it might be illegal.

"I will be taking patient thirty-six off his medicine. You are not to enter Saïx's room without my permission, nor is anyone else. His room is effectively off-limits. That means that no one will be able to sneak medicine in to him, and neither food nor literature will be allowed either. Demyx, also, will be banned – and all food trays will be personally examined by me."

The other doctor's eyes widened in shock and horror – how could a healer, though a man of science he may be, do something like this to a patient? It was unthinkable in Zexion's mind.

"This is breaking so many laws," he said, eyes narrowed.

"I think you will find that technically it is not, actually, though a court of law would probably not support what I am doing. Therefore, you are not to allow anyone to find out. You are to inform the nurses that you will be taking Saïx his medicine personally from now on. Do not under any circumstances allow them in his room. You are to be present, also, every time a food tray is handed through the door. He is not to speak to them," Xemnas said, with a bored sound in his voice that just made Zexion angrier. He not only didn't care that he was handing down evil to another man, but the thought of it actually _bored_ him.

"Then, if there's nothing _else_," he spat, trying and failing to be subtle with his anger, and glad for once that Xemnas was terrible at recognizing human expression and emotion.

Xemnas shook his head and left without a word of goodbye, for which the other was immensely grateful; he was unsure of his capacity to be civil any longer than he already had been. And in his mind, a plan had begun to form – because though Xemnas was the sort of man who would have eyes everywhere, there must be _some_ way to get word out quietly.

And then he smiled suddenly in realization – because Demyx, albeit unknowingly, had given him all the information he needed to stop this, because what human being could knowingly sit by?

XXX

It had barely been thirty minutes since Roxas's encounter with the man who had apparently been his best friend when said man came barging into his room like a maniac. More like slunk in sheepishly, actually, but it _felt_ like he was barging in. All he wanted was a little breathe time, goddammit.

"Hey, Roxy, is this a bad time?"

Roxy? Where the hell had _that_ come from? Wasn't that some kind of women's designer surf-clothes line or something? He didn't outwardly voice his opinion of the nickname, though.

"No, it's fine." He was on the verge of asking how Axel was as a kind of rhetorical greeting, before realizing that the redhead was probably pretty shitty right about now, and it was kind of his fault, so better not to ask. And anyway, what right did he have to barge in on Roxas's life and then expect to be asked how he _felt_? Served him right, anyway.

So he sat on his old half-gray bed with his arms self-righteously crossed, waiting for Axel to break the silence, which he did with reluctance.

"Sorry 'bout earlier, man. I kinda… I guess I kinda lost it, y'know? It's just like, bam, and suddenly you were there, when you _hadn't_ been in so long." He gave a sheepish look like he realized he was rambling, took a breath, gave Roxas a grin that warmed him a little despite himself, then changed the subject.

"But anyway. That's all past now. I'd kinda like to get to know you again. Pretend like none of that ever happened and we're meeting right here, right now, and this is the start of everything. Right?"

Roxas couldn't help but give this guy a smile – he might seem kinda crazy but at least, at the _very_ least he was sincere. He was giving Roxas a look like if he said no, he might just die on the spot. It was almost cute, really.

"Fine," he said amicably, unable to hold any real animosity towards the other man despite everything, "My name's Roxas." He paused. "And you are?"

"Axel," he said with a slow smile, realizing that he'd won. Not won, really. He intrigued Roxas, though, and spending time with him would be a whole hell of a lot better than spending time alone. "Got it memorized?"

Roxas heard that and had to choke back a laugh – because that triggered a hazy memory, not anything concrete, but he seemed to recall having heard that same line over, and over again. He responded without thinking.

"You moron, you think that sounds cooler than it really does."

And Axel's eyes brightened suddenly, with a force that made Roxas look away awkwardly.

"What?" the blonde asked.

"You remember?" he asked enthusiastically, but with some small measure of reservation about his face. He was being more careful this time, it seemed.

"No… I'm sorry, did you think I had?"

The redhead's expression only fell a little, but the excitement was there all the same.

"Yeah, you used to say that to me every time I'd use that line."

Roxas chuckled softly at that. He was quite the animated character, was Axel.

"Did I really? Sorry I don't remember any more than that." His posture had been relaxing gently all through the conversation; the other man seemed to have that effect on people.

"Yeah. Which means you're remembering, at least a little." Roxas was kind of proud of him for being smart enough to change the subject at that.

"Well then," Axel continued, "Wanna go raise some hell?"

And even though he knew Naminé would be there in maybe ten minutes to check up on him, he still found himself nodding. The redhead's enthusiasm was contagious, and when he asked you to do something, it was very, very hard to say no.

XXX

Zexion was feeling more than a little awkward approaching the young nurse like this – they had probably never spoken more than two words together before, and those out of necessity. He was a taciturn man by nature, and even Kairi's cheerfulness couldn't assuage that any – but he was grateful for it when, instead of turning to him with confusion, she gave him a bright smile.

"Can I help you, doctor?" she asked, one hand on the tray of medicines she had been arranging, the other on her hip casually.

"Um, actually…" he paused to gather his thoughts, but she seemed to understand. He didn't cross his arms, refused to cross his arms, because he knew that could come off as imperious, and he needed this girl's help. After all, her best friend was one of the toughest cops to have seen a beat in years, according to Demyx. So, his arms hung limply at his sides, unsure of what to do.

"Yes?" she said helpfully.

"Well, Xemnas wanted me to let you know that you are not to deliver trays or anything else to Saïx's room. Patient 36."

There was a pause.

"Patient thirty-six is not my case," she said, brow wrinkled in confusion. Damn, he hoped she got it. He couldn't say anything aloud because he was afraid that he was being watched.

"Yes, I know." He hoped that wasn't too un-subtle. "But," he said for the benefit of anyone else who might have been listening, "I have been asked to inform _all_ of the nurses that nothing is to enter or exit that room." He gave her a meaningful look and she caught it, though apparently didn't realize what it meant.

"But nurses always take care of food and medicines. His nurse should have his nutritional and medicinal charts. I think Naminé has his case. Should I go look them up for you?"

"That won't be necessary," he said, almost pleadingly, hoping.

"…Why won't it be necessary?" she asked. Dammit.

"Xemnas will be taking care of the patient _personally_. In fact, I'm sure a representative of his will be along shortly to inform you of changes, if they're not already _here_." He put a special emphasis on the last word of both sentences, and suddenly, the light dawned in her eyes.

"He's not depriving the patient of food again, is he?" she said with shock.

"No. He is not depriving the patient of food," Zexion repeated, and she finally got it. It was easy enough to tell: the flash of fury was hard to miss.

"Oh… I see. Thank you for informing me. I will talk to Xemnas myself about this in the near future," she said, face hardening in anger.

"No, please don't disturb the Superior. He will send someone if he wishes to speak to you."

"I see." She paused. "Well then, have a good afternoon. I really hope that the Superior has the patient's best interest at mind."

"I assure you that he knows exactly what he was doing." The sarcasm in his voice was subtle, but he knew she caught it when he saw her give a small smile.

"I'm sure that he does. Bye, then, I'm off to my break," she said. "It started ten minutes ago and I should be meeting a friend in fifteen. See you around!" she said, and he kind of hoped she meant it.

XXX

Saïx was beyond the point of anger by the time Xemnas told him of the change in his situation. He had reacted in horror too many times, now, to things that the Superior had done: nothing shocked him anymore from that man, quite frankly.

"So you want to see how I react under no medical influences, then?" he said, almost sounding bored to hide the rage that threatened to overcome him at any moment. He would not allow it to.

"Precisely. I am impressed by how well you are taking this, Saïx." The bastard used his name again. That was almost infuriating. He tried to keep in mind what Demyx had said – that the doctor respected him more than possibly anyone else he knew – but found it difficult in the face of this.

"Yeah, well, not much I can do, is there?" He paused. "The full moon's in a week."

"Yes, I realize this."

"You want to observe, then?"

"Very much." And his eyes glinted with a kind of passion that Saïx hadn't seen from the man very often. He really, truly was interested in the results of this; interested enough, perhaps, to forget about his other duties as a human being.

"I see." The patient paused again. "Why are you so interested in me?"

Xemnas seemed shocked for a moment at the impertinence of the question, but he regained his calm demeanor fairly quickly.

"In the name of science, you already should know this."

"Bullshit," Saïx responded with a throaty laugh. He could tell, now that he was looking – the man was very interested on a personal level. More than just "for science."

Xemnas didn't respond for a moment.

"You fascinate me," he said, repeating his words from days ago.

"I know this already. Why?"

Another pause.

"You…" He took another breath, gathering himself. "Your words. Your actions. They are… passionate. Filled with emotion. I do not, understand emotion very well. Watching you helps me to understand."

_No shit_, were the first words that came to mind, but he carefully steered clear of them. After all, he was trying to make the doctor explain himself, not impose more punishment.

"So you're fascinated with me because I am your polar opposite," he mused, "and yet, more alike to you than possibly anyone else. You wonder why."

Xemnas flinched, and Saïx grinned ferally.

"That's it, isn't it. I'm what you'd be if you weren't a sociopathic bastard. You're trying to figure out what the hell life would be like for you if you were semi-normal."

"That is… one way of putting it."

And then suddenly, Saïx was standing, hair glinting blue in the fluorescent light and yellow eyes gleaming with pride and a vicious sort of understanding. He knew how he could win, now. He was sure of it.

With a flash, he was in front of Xemnas, in front of his doctor, and their presences clashed as their eyes battled for power. His hand twitched once, twice.

"Fuck it," he growled finally, before taking Xemnas's lips in his own, biting slowly, powerfully, in an act of complete dominance rather than passion.

XXX

"So what the hell is there to do around here?" Axel asked casually, hands in his pockets as he strolled with Roxas down another whitewashed hall.

"Well…" The blonde paused. "There's a lab downstairs, I think, in the basement. Some med students take classes there on occasion." Axel smiled as he watched the familiar look of mischief grow on Roxas's face. "Might be worth checking out, you think?"

"Abso-fuckin-lutely, kid. Lead on."

Within fifteen minutes, they had found the basement door, picked the lock thanks to Axel's strange skills – "don't ask" had been his reply – and made themselves at home on a large dissection table. The room was only lit by the greenish lamps illuminating the jars of dissection materials from years gone by. There must have been hundreds – everything from pigs to tapeworms. Axel was rather fond of the pickled brain, himself, and had dumped it out on the counter to prod at it, much to Roxas's evident amusement.

"Y'know, whatever the hell's in that stuff probably isn't good for you."

"If it eats through the gloves we'll know it's toxic," he responded with a grin. "Hey, you got a knife on you?"

Roxas gave him a look that clearly said "What the hell?" despite the lack of definition caused by the poor lighting.

"Do you really expect that they'd let an asylum patient carry around a switchblade or something? Seriously, what the hell goes on in your head sometimes?"

"Eh, not a lot. I find it makes it more difficult to have fun when you're worried about consequences."

He laughed silently at Roxas's bewildered look – obviously the kid didn't have any particular memories of making trouble. But that was quite alright. He'd make him remember, and make new memories of mischief in the meantime.

A cursory search of the drawer in the dissection table revealed an old-seeming scalpel with rust on the handle though thankfully not the blade. Without another thought, he plunged it right into the frontal lobe, although of course he didn't know what it was called. Not like he had paid enough attention in his high school science classes to figure that out.

"Axel, what the hell are you doing?" he asked, trying to sound shocked and reproving but really just sounding amused.

"Eh, it's been a long time since I cut one of these babies up. They're kind of cool on the inside, I've heard. Wonder what kind of brain it is?" he asked, not really expecting an answer.

"…You're cutting up the med students' dissection samples."

"Hell yeah." He said with a grin to melt hearts. He'd know, after all. He'd melted enough hearts, both figuratively and literally, to know how. There was another pause, during which he heard a choked giggle coming from Roxas's side of the half-lit room.

Then a thought struck him.

"Hey, I wonder if this shit burns?" he stated rather than asked, grin transforming into a smirk. Raising hell, step one. And Roxas's eyes met his, and they grinned together, and set to work like they had been working together for years instead of just having met that day. But of course, they had been.

XXX

Xemnas's was more than just surprised when he felt Saïx's lips on his. Shocked would be more of the word, and he had never before been truly shocked by anything. He pulled away in reflex, taking a cautionary step back.

"…What was that?" he asked with a mixture of a careful testing of the waters, a hint of annoyance, and an honest curiosity.

"That is what you call a kiss. And I successfully unsettled you for maybe the first time since we've known each other. I call a victory," he said with a grin that could have been either triumphant or malicious.

"…I realize that it's a kiss. You were trying to unnerve me, then?"

"That, and the feeling of being more powerful than someone like you is… intoxicating," he said, unreserved in a way that Xemnas could not quite understand. The other man's eyes were gleaming and his whole being seemed full of energy. Strange. Was that a result of the kiss or of the dominance? That would be an intriguing experiment.

"Is that so." That was practically an invitation to test it for himself. And so, he did – in the name of science, of course. Saïx's eyes opened wider as their lips clashed yet again – and soon enough, their mouths were open in a searing passion and Xemnas could taste the sharpness of the other man's fangs on his tongue.

But in Xemnas's mind, he saw this as just another extension of their fight for dominance elsewhere – they would battle, tooth and nail, for the power, for the feeling of having won. Because in that way, as in many other ways, they were far too alike.

And with a small smile, a smirk maybe, he pulled away and walked out the door, leaving Xemnas amused, them both unfulfilled, and Saïx wondering just who had won that encounter. The doctor didn't need to wonder. He knew.

XXX

Sora could tell even before she opened the door to the coffee-shop that Kairi was in an especially foul mood that day. He shrunk back a little against Riku in automatic defense, because a mad Kairi still scared him even to this day, and Riku chuckled and tightened the loose arm around his lover's middle.

"Hey Kai, whatcha up to?" Riku asked casually, leaning his chin on the arm that rested on the table. The seats made it easy enough to sit on someone's lap comfortably while still holding a conversation with someone else, which was part of the reason why Riku agreed to waste their breaks here sometimes, for which Sora was immensely grateful.

"Oh, hi Riku! Glad you could make it. But you'd better prepare yourself, because I have a long rant coming."

Riku raised an eyebrow.

"Can you give us the short version? Once again, we have to go back to work at a reasonable hour," he said, amused.

"Fine then. Long story short, my boss is an asshole."

"You and everybody else, babe." Riku responded, to which Sora couldn't help but chuckle.

"No, seriously! He just decided to take one of the patients off his medicine for no apparent reason other than to observe him without."

Sora's eyes shot up and he felt Riku stiffen behind him.

"What, really? Isn't that illegal?"

"Not technically, no," the redhead responded, "I went and looked it up, that's why I was a little late. But any court would support the patient in a case like this. Trouble is, there's no real _proof_."

"…Kairi, as much as you might hate that guy, that's not enough for us to go on." There was another pause as Kairi sat in front of them with a motion to the waiter for her usual, a chocolate doughnut with sprinkles and a very vanilla latte.

"He starved the same patient in order to make him comply."

There was a long silence, and Riku and Sora looked at each other forebodingly.

"He didn't," Riku said darkly. He had no sympathy for any criminal, nor patience for men of the type that this one seemed to be.

Kairi's countenance gained a new kind of vigor at his words, knowing that she had found a willing audience.

"Yeah. But again, I can't prove it."

"I think I can get a warrant," piped in Sora helpfully. "Cloud on the squad has some leverage with Sephiroth, the state judge. Even though your word is all we have to go on, I bet I can get one soon. If so, I'll have set up surveillance equipment within a week," he said with a cheery smile that was meant to lighten the mood. He had always been good at cheering the mood.

"Really?" she said with the doe-eyes that always worked on him so well. "That would be amazing! I would be so grateful."

He gave her a little grin and put his arm discreetly around Riku.

"Of course. What else are friends for? I can't sit by and watch someone do stuff like that."

And of course, Riku couldn't either. The two of them gave Kairi some absent goodbyes as they stood – had to get back to work, of course, sorry – and left, plans running in both their minds.

XXX

It was almost time for an early dinner by the time Demyx arrived in the mess hall. He had dropped by Roxas's room earlier only to find it unoccupied – a good sign, to be sure – which left him in a good mood. But the good mood was cancelled out when he dropped by Saïx's room only to find that all visitors had been blocked. Quite upsetting, really – he'd had a copy of "A Hundred Years of Solitude" to drop by, courtesy of Zexion, of course.

He picked up a tray and a plate and watched with fascination bordering on revulsion as the hair-netted woman behind the counter poured a rank sauce on what might once have been decently palatable steak before it withered under the woman's stern-lipped glare. He couldn't stop himself from pouting over the loss of decent food as he walked towards a table, any table, and winced as he realized that said meat had been further demonized by the addition of mashed potatoes straight on top that looked more like modeling clay.

Everyone else was here before him, it seemed – most of the patients did not make their own schedule, and ate at precisely the same time each evening. The tall windows in the mess hall admitted more light than anywhere else in the facility, given that they were two stories tall to match with the room's soaring ceiling, though in Demyx's opinion they didn't do much to relieve the doom. But the calm murmur of eating and the bits of disjointed conversation were interrupted by a quiet slamming noise that sounded like it came from outside, despite the fact that they were several stories above the ground. Demyx looked up sharply, only to be distracted when the sound came again from the window down the hall.

Then suddenly, there was a short scream from one of the nurses, and he had to admit that he jumped about a foot himself, as the cause of the noise came into view – staring at him through the window was the face of a cat. A dead cat preserved in formaldehyde, but a cat nonetheless. It hung limply from a rope tied around its waist, and rebounded off the window only to hit again, quieter this time. Then there was another noise from down the hall, until all five of the giant windows were graced with their very own vision of loveliness.

Demyx couldn't help but snigger, quietly at first but allowing it to morph into a chuckle, then a deep, loud laugh that he probably hadn't used in years. Someone had gotten into the med students' dissection samples, and he didn't even need to guess who.

The cats continued to slam pathetically against the windows as general panic erupted in the room below, a panic that thankfully the nurses were ready for, given that they had seen the cats first. Kairi in particular moved with lightning speed to shut the giant drapes that could be closed in the event of necessity.

Once the sight of the cats in the windows was gone, each nurse took the job of calming down their particular patient, and Demyx left his meager little tray on the desk to go find Axel and Roxas, and congratulate them on a job well done.

They were quite the pair, really.

XXX

Zexion had been called up to the mess hall on some kind of emergency, but evidently the call was somewhat belated, because when he arrived everything seemed to be quite calm and normal, except for the drapes. He rather hated those drapes, actually. Ugly color.

As soon as he ascertained that he was no longer needed, he backtracked out as fast as he could without arousing suspicion, only to run into Demyx – thankfully not literally – just outside the door.

"Hey there!" he said with a smile and a casual greeting salute.

"Hey," the doctor responded, not noticing that his arms had migrated back into crossed position again.

"So did you hear about the disaster?" he asked cheerily.

"…Not in full, no. I'm sure you wouldn't mind giving me all the details," he said with a smile in his voice if not on his face. He knew the blonde could tell.

"Well, so Axel and Roxas raided the med students' lab downstairs, right?" By the time Zexion had processed this information – it took more than one go – Demyx was already halfway through the next paragraph. "…so I told him, no big, formaldehyde's really flammable anyway, I'm sure it happens all the time. But at any rate, so what they did was, they took some of the cats that were up to be dissected… and liberated them. They're hanging quite free over the side of the roof," he said with a tone that was halfway between reproach and amusement, with a tinge of appreciation for what he must have seen as a true masterwork in the art.

"…liberated them…" Zexion said faintly, eyes wide and brow furrowed. "Liberated the dissection cats."

"Yeah. Not a big deal though, we had a bunch of surplus. I heard Xigbar talking about it the other day."

"Liberated them over the roof."

"They're back up now. Just pulled the rope back up. They're being returned."

"…Rope."

"Yeah, they were hanging in the windows for a while."

He gave Demyx the lord of all incredulous looks, trying to recover and all the while thinking, sick to his stomach – he'd just finished signing the papers to get Axel in here permanently. Oh God on high, what had he unleashed upon the world?

XXX

Comment if you like? Give some love.


	5. Chapter 5

Thank-you to all the lovely people who have commented! I'm thrilled by the amount of love this has been getting.

I've been working on this for about a month at most, and already it has more words than my novel, which I've been working on for quite a bit longer. That says something about how much I like writing this...

Random fact: The thing with the cats last chapter actually happened: my friend's father was quite the prankster during his youth.

XXX

**Chapter 5**

Demyx was almost shocked by the level of destruction Axel had managed to wreak upon the dissection lab. Almost, but not quite. After all, he'd practically lived with Axel for about a year, and saw firsthand what kind of crap he could do to his own room.

He was very glad he wasn't Zexion in that moment, because the silver-haired doctor looked about ready to pass out onto the floor, and that didn't seem wise given the circumstances. Demyx thought he might have seen blood somewhere among the unidentified fluids on the floor. The shattered glass might have had something to do with that.

"Whoa, man. Hang in there," the blonde said with a grin and a steadying hand to the doctor's back. "It's not so bad, now, is it?"

There was a long silence, and they both looked over the damages. Demyx winced as he noticed that a fire in the back corner was still kind of burning, though thankfully Axel had been smart enough to burn his shit on the metal dissection tables instead of the wood ones. If he looked closely enough, he thought he might could see the remains of a twice-mangled and too-long-preserved shark.

"…Not so bad…" Zexion replied disbelievingly. "The dissection samples are either butchered or burned, at least one jar has been shattered, there's formaldehyde all over the floor and this Axel has left a _burning_ fire in the back corner."

"He thought it'd be out by now. Too bad this stuff burns so long."

Zexion fumbled around in the dark for the light switch, probably with the intention of better assessing the damage.

The back wall was relatively unharmed, if you didn't count the splash of something that might have been battery fluid on the corner, but there was only a little of it, really. Barely noticeable. It would have been less noticeable if it hadn't been really black, and really drippy. A shame, that.

But pieces of _something_ – from the shape, possibly a brain – were dumped in a little funeral pyre in the middle of the floor, unburned as of yet but this was probably due to distraction rather than lack of desire. So the overall picture was one of chaos – but not ill-intentioned chaos. More like wild animals had gotten loose inside and just _had_ to examine everything.

The doctor sighed from beside him, and he put an arm around the other man comfortingly.

"Hey, it's ok. We'll just get them to clean it up, 'kay? And Axel can buy you a new shark."

Zexion still looked petulant, and he refused to uncross his arms.

"And a new brain?" Demyx continued hopefully, giving him a wide-eyed puppy look with a sheepish, please-do-it-for-me grin.

Zexion finally turned back to him with a slightly accusing, slightly bewildered but mostly acquiescent look – success – and gave him a pathetic attempt at a smile. It was something, at least.

"Alright, fine. Your friend stays. But if this kind of disaster happens again – the cats _or_ the med lab – then the redhead's out."

"Aw, thanks. You're a lifesaver Zexy!"

And he gave the doctor a tight hug, then turned and left, leaving Zexion with the same look on his face as he'd been left with the last time Demyx had done this. Only a matter of time. Because Demyx, after all, wouldn't ever make the first move; he just kept on doing his thing until the other guy couldn't take it anymore and either broke and ran away or caved in.

His record was perfect, so far. He was just good like that.

XXX

Zexion felt a twinge of regret as he watched Demyx walk away – probably to set into motion more events that would mould the world the way he liked it. The doctor smiled almost imperceptibly as he watched the boy leave, then frowned as he realized that his arm was halfway extended. Maybe he'd intended to stop the kid, he wasn't really sure.

Demyx's feet were disappearing up the stairs, so if he wanted to make a move, he'd have to do it now. Dammit.

"Um, wait," he said awkwardly, half-hoping both that the other had heard and that he hadn't, for different reasons.

The blonde turned and was back down the stairs in a flash.

"Yes?" he asked expectantly.

"Uh…" Zexion wasn't even quite sure why he'd called the boy back at all, but he needed a reason… "I was just thinking," he said instinctively, "that you might like to get out of here for a day," he said, arms crossed and looking away so that he didn't have to meet the other's gaze. "I mean, if you have nothing else going on, or…" He mentally slapped himself as he realized how stupid that sounded. Of _course_ he had nothing else going on. This was an asylum. It's not like they regularly held parties here.

He looked back surreptitiously to gauge the boy's reaction, only to see Demyx's eyes lit like he'd never quite seen them.

"Really?!" he asked jubilantly, "That would be _amazing._ Can you really do that?!" He looked like he was trying not to bounce up and down, maybe for Zexion's sake. Heh. Dumb kid. That didn't bother him.

"Yeah… I can organize an outing. But we don't – you don't – have to go with the other inmates if you want," he said, gaining confidence from his obvious excitement.

"Can we go _now?_" he asked.

"I have to organize the papers, and…"

"Please?" he asked again, before Zexion could finish his sentence.

There was a silence as the doctor tried to cover up the outward signs of his caving will with a look of intense concentration.

"…Fine," he said at length. "I'm sure I can figure something out."

"Oh, thank you so much!" Demyx responded, evidently unable to restrain himself any longer, and so he burst into another hug, this one directed straight at the doctor's midsection. He wasn't exactly shocked by it, this time, but still was slow reciprocating, and even when he did it was tentative at best.

"Alright, then," he said, trying to change the track of the conversation, though he didn't exactly know why or to what, "if we want to be able to go anywhere before it gets inordinately late – it's already six…" He drifted off, hoping Demyx would get the hint. There was a silence.

"What?" he responded wide-eyed. Clearly he did not get it.

"…You're going to have to let go of me," he said, resigned, though it occurred to him that that was about the last thing he wanted.

XXX

Saïx wondered how long it would take to wear a groove in these floors with one's feet – they were cheap, so probably not long, and with all the pacing he had been doing for the past several hours, he was well on his way to forging a path from his living room back to his bedroom. The source of his agitation was obvious enough – confusion, a bit of anger, and a relentless attraction to a man who really didn't deserve it at all.

He didn't really know what to think about these recent developments. Under normal circumstances, Demyx might be providing his insight, looked-for or not; but neither the blonde nor anyone else could enter his room without prior permission from the Superior, and the inmate seriously doubted that Xemnas would allow the boy in to see him. So, he was left with only his own interpretation of the situation.

And his interpretation that had been working so well had suddenly dropped him halfway between nowhere and somewhere, leaving Saïx rather frustrated in several senses.

The man was bewildering, to say the very least. It was as if he couldn't make up his mind whether he could tolerate Saïx or not. Due to the most recent development, Saïx could assume that he was not only tolerated, but appreciated. That he was an object of interest.

He wondered if he should confront the other man about it, bring it up again, or if he should wait and see what Xemnas did on his own. That might be a better indicator of his interest level. But, at the same time…

Saïx grinned slowly as an idea finally struck. It had been years since he'd used them, but he'd managed to get a set of bobby pins snuck into him for the purpose of picking locks. And he could figure out where the central office was quickly enough.

_Time to see what the man looks like on his own territory._

XXX

It had been less than a day before Sora got confirmation back that a warrant had been issued to gather information on Kairi's boss. That was quick for bureaucrats; astonishingly quick, actually. Riku was personally of the opinion that Cloud and Sephiroth were screwing each other, but he wasn't going to voice that. It was a little too close to illegal for his comfort – conflict of interests and all that – and probably wasn't anything he needed to stick his nose into anyway.

And so, he and Sora were in street clothes despite the fact that they were on duty, and wandering as inconspicuously as they could down the sidewalk that led to the Hollow Bastion Correctional Facility.

"So, how exactly do you plan to set up all that without someone taking notice? I'm willing to bet that this guy has up cameras of his own all over the place," Riku asked casually, hands in his pockets. They both were carrying small book-bags over their shoulders filled with all kinds of surveillance equipment that they hadn't gotten the chance to examine yet.

"Um, I'll figure that out when we get there," Sora responded. "But before we do that… I have a perfect plan that will require next to no effort!" he said excitedly. Riku groaned internally – he could just sense something coming that he wasn't necessarily going to like. He sighed in relief as the object in question turned out to be only a pen – then realized that a pen was probably high on the list of things that couldn't be included in a plan without the plan being utterly retarded.

"It's a recording pen, see? We just stick it in his pen-holder, turn it on, and it'll send recordings of his conversations directly to us! Cool, huh?"

Yes, except for the obvious failing that it was rather hard not to notice the holes through which the microphone recorded sounds. He stared disbelievingly as his lover.

"…A spy-pen. You're going to give Xemnas a spy-pen."

"Yeah!"

Riku stared at him in dumbfounded silence. He didn't really know what to say, at all; which was a rarity for the man. He kept trying to tell himself that it wasn't cute. Really.

"…Sora, that could totally blow the plan out of the water," he said in a tone of disbelief. "It's _really_ easy to notice, plus it's cliché like none other. And you know that normally, they're used _by_ the cop so that they don't get found out?"

Sora pouted a little, playing with his pen absently.

"Yeah… but it would be cool!"

"…Sora. No," Riku said determinedly, giving his hair a quick toss.

"Aww, fine…" the other said, resigned, and re-pocketed the pen.

There was a silence for a moment as Riku battled his curiosity. He didn't really want to encourage Sora, but at the same time, he was vaguely curious where someone would come upon something like a spy-pen.

"…Where did you get that, anyway?" he asked eventually, not looking at Sora.

"I ordered it from a magazine – it's called Gadget-Collector. You should totally come look at it with me sometime. I have a whole collection of these things, just in case we ever need them!"

And Riku couldn't help but chuckle at that, then laugh, ignoring Sora's bewildered expression.

"You…" he said with a grin. He found himself unable to quite finish that sentence, so he turned to Sora and kissed him instead. To make him be quiet, of course, and not at all because he thought it was cute, or adorable, or any other number of adjectives that were _not_ going through his head at the moment.

_What's the rush, anyway_? They had at least a couple of hours before the facility closed. And those hours could definitely be put to better use.

XXX

It had taken Saïx maybe five minutes to find his improvised lockpicks and to get out of his room. It felt amazing – better than he could explain – to be free again, finally; and he wondered momentarily at the wisdom of releasing himself from that place, considering that he would just have to go back. And that one taste of freedom would make his incarceration that much more unbearable.

But for now, he savored the feeling, loping easily down the hallways in the way he had mastered years ago, arms swinging freely, and full with a burning that told him he would succeed, that he was powerful. And he liked that feeling; he was hooked on that feeling.

It didn't take him long to reach the room where the former facility-head's office had been, and surely enough, the room was labeled "The Superior," which almost made Saïx laugh at the arrogance of it all, but not quite. He hesitated for a moment outside of the door with a hand up, on the verge of not knocking and just entering. He gave the door a soft rap, in light of one of his and Xemnas's early conversations, and opened the door quietly, determined to be polite.

"Yes?" came Xemnas's voice from behind his desk. The man's room was curiously undecorated, although diplomas and awards hung from the walls to assuage the emptiness. A small bookshelf stood in the corner, with one tiny potted plant – so green that Saïx highly suspected it was a fake – and about thirty classics. He noted with interest that Xemnas appeared to be halfway through a sparkling-new copy of Paradise Lost. An interesting choice – he'd finished that not too long ago himself.

"Xemnas," he said stepping into the room, unaware of how badly his hair clashed with the faintly orange surroundings, "I believe you do not quite understand how cowardly it was of you to leave before we had finished our exchange."

His eyes betrayed surprised for just a moment, widening them and then blinking before returning, almost forcibly it seemed, his expression back to normal.

"…You have exited your quarters," he said. It was a statement, but at the same time he asked how exactly the other man had done it.

"Not any of your business how, let me assure you."

"It most certainly is," he responded, forehead creased. He didn't seem particularly happy about that, but then Saïx hadn't expected him to be.

"What's important for now is that I'm here, you're here, and I'm demanding a reason for what you did."

Xemnas seemed content, for the moment, to drop their earlier course of conversation and continue along this new one.

"It is as you said. The feeling of domination over someone such as yourself is… intoxicating, at the very least."

Saïx paused for a moment; he wasn't particularly thrilled that Xemnas was interested in domination, but realized that saying as much would make a hypocrite of him, considering everything.

"Then why did you leave?"

"I thought I explained that to you."

He thought for a moment in silence, before realizing that Xemnas's way of dominating, of course, wouldn't simply involve physical domination. Controlling what he thought or felt by carefully chosen actions – those would be more along the line of his preferences. He would have to be sure not to allow that to happen.

After a while, he finally spoke.

"Ah, I see." Another pause. "I will have to remember that, then. Your interests lie in mental domination."

"Are you expecting to need this information?" Xemnas asked with a look that told Saïx he knew exactly what he's doing.

"Yes, I am."

"In what way do you expect to use it?" he responded. Saïx scowled – this was the other's version of flirting, god_damn_ him, but he was being such a fucking tease.

He didn't respond, but instead, he slowly began to advance on the other man, expression not changing except for a look of victory that began to glimmer in his eyes. Xemnas didn't move – maybe he was curious, maybe he didn't understand what the other man was about to do. He seemed to be paralyzed, immobile either by design or with shock, until Saïx's fangs met with his neck, marking him there, blood running in tiny rivulets out of the mark. His mark.

Xemnas put a hand up to his neck to stop the bleeding, but the look in his eyes was dark; and Saïx met his eyes with a smile, a smirk, a grin – and he licked the blood off the corners of his mouth, savoring it.

"I think that perhaps you have misunderstood. It is not _you_ who should be marking the other."

And Saïx smiled as he watched Xemnas stand, because this was a game he could keep playing. A game that, maybe, he could never win; but part of the fun was that he would never want to.

Where's the fun in winning when winning stops the game?

XXX

Zexion was contemplating vaguely the wisdom of his idea as Demyx dragged him wholeheartedly out into the bright orange sunlight of the early evening. Some of the nurses had given him strange – even downright evil – looks upon his departure, and was quite sure that they'd written something down on those ominous little clipboards they liked to carry around so much.

So he was going to get in trouble over it eventually; soon eventually. But that wasn't now, and another glimpse of the look of pure elation on Demyx's face was enough to make Zexion decide to put thoughts of possible punishment away for now.

"So, what would you like to do first?" he asked quietly, not really wanting to interrupt the sounds of the outside. God knows he didn't get out that often either.

"That's a park, right?"

"Yeah."

"I kind of want to go there. Is that ok?"

"Yeah. There's a zoo there too, if you want," he said cautiously, hoping the question wouldn't make it seem like he thought Demyx childish. The last thing he wanted to do was offend the boy, but his social skills were almost nonexistent.

"Oh, that would be _amazing_. I haven't been to a zoo in years!"

Zexion gave him a small smile that he probably didn't see as he dragged the doctor in through the tall wrought-iron gate. It was early summer, so the trees were a dark and verdant green, and the birds were chirping quite contentedly from the upper branches.

The children's playground ahead of them wasn't quite empty, despite the fact that it was getting on in the evening; a few kids of different ages roamed the equipment that must have been brightly colored at one point. It was chipped and dirty now, but happily so, from the work of many thousands of kids over years.

It occurred to the doctor suddenly why he kept away from these places when he saw one of them – a short brown-haired boy with an expression of mischief – point in his direction with a giggle. He sighed in resignation – this seemed to happen every time children saw him. His hair color was odd enough that they singled him out as the object of their thankfully short-lived interest as soon as he walked into their line of sight.

"Hey, mister! What's wrong with your hair?" the kid asked, running up quickly so as to have a better view of the strange man's hair, and followed by a horde of other curious children.

He heard Demyx giggle from beside him and had to resist the urge to give the other man a glare.

"There's nothing wrong with my hair," he said shortly. "It's just a different color than yours."

"It's a _funny_ color. And it sticks up all weird. What do you do to it? Mommy says that if you go swimming too much without washing your hair it'll turn blue," he informed the doctor, with the air of someone who feels they've just given out some very important advice.

"Thank you, I'll keep that in mind."

There was another chortle from beside him, and finally Demyx let go of Zexion's hand – he hadn't even realized the patient had been holding it – and squatted down so as to be at eye-level with the kids.

"Hey, how about this. You leave Zexion alone, and I'll come play with you for a little while, ok?"

They seemed thrilled by this idea, and almost instantly dragged him away to the playground, on which he looked strangely comfortable. They started a game of tag quickly enough, with Demyx apparently as the one doing the tagging – but it was only minutes before he started getting glances from the mothers that said that they were not comfortable with a strange man playing with their children. It wouldn't be long before they realized he was a mental patient, and probably called the cops on them.

"Demyx," he called, "We have to go."

"Why? I'm having fun!"

"Just come on. I'll buy you something if you come now."

"…Ice cream?" he said, glancing over towards an ice-cream cart on the pavilion to the side of the playground.

"Yes. Ice-cream."

And he was down in a flash at the mention of iced-cream. Of course he would be; he didn't get that sort of thing very often.

It only took them a few minutes to walk over to the cart and pick out the bars they wanted – Demyx had convinced him to get one of his own – and to be off down the gravel pathway, hands barely touching in the way of people who weren't sure whether the other wanted to. But they hadn't made it very far down the path before Zexion felt a start from beside him, and turned to see Demyx staring with astonishment at something down the road.

He followed the other's gaze, only to find a blonde girl at the other end of it – almost a woman, really – dressed in black leather and chains, sprawled over the park bench and smoking as if she weren't less than a minute from a children's playground. She was pretty in her own way, if you liked vipers, and she gave off the impression of being coiled for a strike she could unleash at any moment.

"Larxene?!" came the boy's voice from beside him, with too much shock in it for Zexion to really tell whether it was a good shock or a bad shock.

XXX

"Oh, it's you, dumbass. Took you long enough to get out of there. What, you make a break for it too?" she asked, with a slow smirk that had always made Demyx nervous. He didn't really like it at all.

"Uh, no…" came the bewildered response from beside him. "So you made a jailbreak?! Shouldn't they all be out looking for you now?" He didn't seem to be reacting too well to finding his bandmate looking like she'd slept on a park bench for a night and using cancer-sticks at the same time.

"Eh. I've got some friends in high places. Anyway, who's this dick?" she asked with a toss of her head towards Zexion. The doctor tensed a little – he was probably insulted. She was kind of insulting sometimes.

"This is Zexion, and he's not a dick," he responded defensively, unable to come up with a better comeback in her presence. He never had been able to.

"O-ho, he hasn't got one? Why do you hang out with him, then? I had been under the impression you went for _men_," she said with a grin that he could have sworn showed her forked tongue.

Demyx made a little choking noise, and he was sure he had turned at least five different colors before making some kind of response. There was no movement from his side, and he wouldn't turn his head to see how the other was responding.

"What?! I mean… Larxene! How can you say things like that?"

"Call it like I see it, babe," she said, moving smoothly into a sitting position, then tossing her cigarette into the grass and standing.

"Well you always see it in the most insulting possible way for the rest of us."

"Not my fault the rest of you guys are retarded. Speaking of retards, where's Axel?"

"Um, he's… Well he's in the asylum with me."

"What the hell?" she said with a raised eyebrow. "Did he plead insanity to an arson charge or something?"

"No… I mean, he's not really in there."

"What the hell do you mean by that? You say he is, then say he isn't, make up your goddamn mind."

"He's not a patient there. He's just… in there."

He felt Zexion shift from beside him, then clear his throat, and he felt a wave of gratitude for the doctor's intervention – she usually wasn't this bad, but it was like after not seeing each other for months, either she was making up for lost time with extra bitchiness or he'd forgotten how to deal with it.

"Sorry… Larxene, was it?" he interrupted determinedly, "but Demyx has to be getting back, now, and it's past visitor's hours at the facility. I highly suggest that you find somewhere to sleep," he said with an amused look at her park bench, "and please do not follow us back. We don't have room to keep people who just don't have a place to sleep."

She gave him an irritable glare and a frown, then crossed her arms.

"Fine then. Kick me out. Demyx, see you, you fuckin' idiot," she said, with a two-fingered wave over her shoulder as she turned away from them. "But don't think this means you've gotten rid of me. I'll show up soon enough, and we're starting up the goddamn band again, you hear me?"

He was fairly sure he squeaked out a nervous "Yes ma'am" – that tended to be his response to a lot of things Larxene said – before taking Zexion by the shoulders and turning them back around and walking speedily towards the facility.

After all, he didn't really want her to see where they were going. Her evil laugh would haunt his nightmares for years.

XXX

"Y'know, it probably wasn't very smart of them to let us both down here without supervision. Again," Axel said with a lazy grin and a sweeping hand motion across the devastated room. He was quite proud of his handiwork, really. He wondered if anyone had noticed their names melted – subtly, of course – into the dissection tables. Probably not.

Stupid of them, to let someone into an insane asylum with a lighter; but their loss, right?

"Yeah, well. They haven't proven themselves to be the smartest guys, have they?" he responded with a matching smirk. They were both down here to clean up the mess, technically – but that also gave them the opportunity to finish switching the containers that all of the preserved samples were in. They had stopped when they found the cats, lying on top of each other, looking so sad and alone.

Axel had always had a soft spot for cats.

They had returned the kitties into their little fridges, and Axel had left a preserved little mouse in with them on a whim. Just like the ancient Egyptians, or some crap like that.

They both set to work cleaning up the mess, Axel setting afire the brain-pyre while Roxas scrubbed battery acid off the walls. He watched the fire with interest for a while, rather than doing any actual cleaning, but was soon mesmerized by the movement of Roxas's _extremely_ attractive ass rather than even the diminishing fire. It was like a magnet, or some shit, and he found his hand magnetically attracted in that direction.

But he wouldn't take advantage of Roxas. He wouldn't, goddammit.

"It'd all be clean if I just burned the whole damn place," he suggested lightly as a change of topic, absently switching his lighter on and off.

"Yeah," the other responded, "but then you'd be in jail for arson, and we wouldn't have a chance to raise hell together anymore."

There was a pause, as he turned and looked at Axel, bright blue eyes boring into the redheads in a way that was perfectly, amazingly natural.

"I really had fun today," he said with a half-smile. "Really." He paused again, then continued before Axel could interrupt. "You kind of creeped me out at first. I mean, imagine not knowing anyone in the world and then suddenly having this guy launch himself at you like that… I mean, it was kind of disorienting." He gave another smile, a bigger one this time.

"But now I get that we were friends, right? Best friends. And I just wanted to say thanks, for never giving up on me, even though I left, didn't I? Thanks for not forgetting about me."

And Axel gave him the biggest smile of his life.

" 'Course not, dumbass. I could never forget about you. Swear to god. You're like… I dunno."

Roxas raised an eyebrow and the redhead flushed a little and laughed at his incoherency.

"I mean, you're like a part of my life, you know? I couldn't just leave you behind."

"I was that important to you, huh?"

"Yeah, you were."

And they shared a smile that was half-awkward, half-understanding, then turned back to their work, wondering exactly what had transpired between them, and what it meant. But Axel could feel himself glowing a little – this was a feeling he hadn't had for years.

And god-damn, Roxas was back.

XXX

It had been almost fifteen minutes since Saïx had entered Xemnas's office when the doctor finally appeared to remember something. His eyes widened, and he pushed himself off of Saïx, pretending that he wasn't admiring the other's shirtless glory. Saïx sat up in a vague confusion as Xemnas ran a hand over his hair to smooth it, and then gave the other a dark look.

"Get out," Xemnas said with a toss of his head, putting his hair back in place again.

"What?" was Saïx's halfway incoherent response.

"You have been out of your room for probably twenty-five minutes. I require you to return."

He gave Xemnas a halfhearted glare; he knew he had lost, already. They wouldn't continue after this.

"Seems like a pretty bad time for you to remember this," he responded bitingly.

"Perhaps. Or the best time."

"Fuck you."

"I believe you have that backwards," he said with as tiny a change of inflection as he could possibly manage.

"Yeah, well."

And with that, Saïx stood and walked towards the door, not looking back towards the other man.

"I believe you are forgetting your shirt," came the voice from behind him.

"Keep it. As a souvenir, if you'd like."

And he walked straight out the door, shirtless, hair disheveled and asylum-issue pants hanging loosely off one hip. He arrived at the door just in time to brush by an astonished Vexen.

"I'm sorry… was I interrupting something?" he said, regaining his coherency for just long enough to quirk an eyebrow suggestively.

"You would have been if you got here five minutes earlier."

"…then should I wait for the Superior to become… decent?"

"No, he should be fine by now," he said with a smirk, knowing that he probably wasn't. And he didn't give Vexen another look as he walked back down the hallway. Because he didn't really give a damn if anyone knew what was going on between him and Xemnas, but he knew the other man would. So, for every time the doctor was an asshole, now Saïx had some way to get him back.

It was something of a bonus that little Naminé passed out as he went by, too.

XXX

"Aw, _shoot_," exclaimed Sora loudly as he, once again, slammed his thumb with the hammer he had been using to nail in the flat camera.

"Careful up there," came Riku's amused voice from down below, and the brunette cursed his inborn clumsiness, but was rather grateful that his lover found it cute rather than annoying.

They had no idea how they'd managed to get into Patient 36's room without him being there – according to Kairi, he wasn't allowed out of his room for now, so they must have miraculously gotten here during one of his medical check-ups.

Once the cameras were set up, Sora dropped down – albeit clumsily – from the ladder Kairi had provided them with, slipping awkwardly on the tile as he tried to stand up again.

"Seriously, Sora, how you ever passed the exam to be on the squad I'll never know," he teased, helping the other up as they attached the remaining equipment to their belts.

"I don't know either. Maybe they give you extra points for effort?" he said cheerily.

Riku laughed at that.

"If people get points for effort – or enthusiasm – you'd get into any program in the world, baby."

Sora was about to respond, but before he could speak, they heard some clicking noises of metal on metal, and then the door to the hallway opened, framing a blue-haired man – the inmate, most likely – standing there, shirtless.

"Um… hi?" said Sora awkwardly, trying to hide his hammer and nails.

"What are you doing in my room?" asked the man in the doorway.

"Um, we're…"

"Checking for contraband," Riku interrupted smoothly, putting his arm tightly around Sora's shoulders as if to will him away from looking at the other man's perfectly toned chest. The brunette smiled a little – why would he want to look at anyone else when he had Riku whenever he wanted?

"…Is that so?" said the inmate with a look that turned from mildly annoyed to thunderous in an instant. "Would you be so kind as to _leave_ and tell the Superior that he will _never_ distract me in such a way _again_."

And having finished their work, they both left as quickly as they could without seeming nervous, entirely forgetting the ladder they had been using.

"…What's up with him, I wonder?" Sora asked as soon as they were out of hearing range from that particular room.

Riku didn't respond, so he looked up to his lover's face, only to see him trying to hold in his laughter.

"What?" he asked in confusion. He didn't see what was so funny.

"Well," said Riku with another chuckle, "he was probably gone because he was screwing the boss, to be quite frank."

Sora blinked.

"Riku! Don't be rude." He paused, thinking about it. "Anyway, what makes you say that?"

"Well, he was shirtless, for starters. I heard him pick the lock of the room so he obviously wasn't _let_ out, and he seemed so angry when we implied that we were there under the Superior's orders that they were probably having a little fun right about then."

"…Huh. Then… maybe the patient isn't as offended about all of this as we had thought?"

"We'll see," responded Riku with a smile.

But the blood suddenly drained from Sora's face as he realized the implications of all this; if they were… um, sleeping together, and they had cameras set up in both of the patient's rooms…

Suddenly he didn't want to be the one checking the camera footage anymore.

XXX

Drop a line if you like!


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

"Hey, new reports in!" The yell drifted across the room to be picked up by Riku's eager ears. He and Sora weren't working their beat today – hey, somebody had to mind headquarters – so when Yuffie bounced in with a paper half-folded in her hands and a promise to break the monotony, he couldn't help but be excited. She threw him a casual peace sign as a greeting, and a wave at the wakening Sora.

"Hey Yuffie, how are you?" he piped from where he had been catnapping only moments before. Sora was the only person Riku knew who could go from a sleep of death, to perkier than a lab puppy in less than five minutes. The fact that he could do it in thirty seconds was really quite an accomplishment.

"Good, thanks, how are you two lovebirds?" she said with a cheeky grin. She was one of the few on the squad who knew about their relationship; and it wasn't so much that they told her as she had walked in on them kissing. She might or might not have found out about it otherwise; she was a little on the oblivious side.

"We're fine," he said, not responding to the nickname, instead moving on before she got it in her head that she needed to ask details about their love life. That tended to be awkward.

"So what's new?" Riku asked casually, only halfway looking at her.

"Ah, well, we have some new info on that crime ring you were talking about the other day. Seems like Seifer got his head in a little deep, yeah? I mean he left a perfectly good little territory back in Twilight Town to come bother us, and where does that get him? Jail. It's kind of strange, though; it doesn't exactly seem like getting mixed up with a prostitution ring would be his thing. But whatever. Can't account for criminals and movie stars, right?"

Riku rolled his eyes dramatically for Sora's benefit – the girl's chattering was one of their personal jokes.

"Yuffie," he interrupted, "what's the news?"

"Oh, well," she said, not missing a beat, "we got the name of the guy running it all today. He's called Setzer."

Riku stiffened suddenly, all his attention focused on her, but she continued without noticing.

"Did a quick check, no previous incarcerations, but he's wanted for drug dealing and possibly also with regards to an assassin's troupe. Some kind of major crime lord or something."

"His name is Setzer, you said?" he repeated, voice tense.

"Yeah, why?" she asked blankly, stopped halfway through one of her exuberant gestures.

"Eh. No reason. Just a funny name," Riku responded with a failed attempt at a casual tone, grateful that Yuffie was a little clueless and didn't think twice. Sora, though, gave him a look that said this wasn't over. He sighed almost imperceptibly – Setzer was a name he knew from his gang days, but he didn't really want to think about it too hard. Brought back memories.

"And at any rate," she continued, "that gives us some info about your friend Roxas. Seifer says he got on these people's bad side somehow."

"Is that so." That was probably a good sign: he hadn't, at least, been in this gang. If he had been a part of it and tried to leave, he would have been killed without further ado. The fact that he was only severely injured pointed to him having done something against their preferences: but he was probably an innocent stander-by, at least to some degree.

Sora gave a thoughtful look and paused for a moment.

"Hey Yuffie, would you mind watching headquarters instead of us for a while?" he asked innocently. Riku winced internally – he had a feeling that it was time for a talk – but gave Yuffie an acknowledging not. She was more than capable of handling whatever might happen here – but at this moment, there were other things that needed to be done. None of which he was probably going to enjoy.

XXX

Zexion sighed quietly as a sadistically smirking Marluxia dumped another stack of papers on his desk. Ever since the incident with the cats the day before, the paperwork had been just pouring in like a flood of red ink. It was quite tiring to go through, in truth, but it seemed that the upper management was questioning the wisdom of keeping Axel _out_ of solitary confinement – an issue on which he also had his doubts.

He frowned deeply watching Marluxia's retreating back, then looked up and saw the clock – it was already three. He had been working for nine hours so far – writing reports, filling out forms, writing persuasive letters to the management as to why Axel was quite harmless now and would not be a further problem. It was days like these that Zexion hated the fact that he was on-call all night.

It wasn't often he cared, though. It's not like he had much to go home to.

His thoughts were interrupted in one rather shocking instant as something grey and wet came slamming straight down onto his carefully arranged paperwork. Well, formerly carefully arranged.

"Here it is," proclaimed a voice from in front of him, and he closed his eyes in silent prayer to a god who probably wasn't listening.

"Here is what, exactly?" the slate-haired doctor responded, finally venturing to look up from his now-occupied desk to find Axel's tattooed face grinning down on him like some kind of inept demon.

"Your shark," he stated without preface, eyes boring down on the doctor's face in a way that made Zexion distinctly uncomfortable.

He looked down at his desk and the paperwork, and watched with a mixture of horror and relief as the formaldehyde dripped off the thing, soaking quickly through the stack. If he looked closely, it could be distinguished that the elongated gray blob did, indeed, appear to be a shark. He winced as he saw the chemical drip through to his expensive walnut desk.

"_Why_ did you bring me a shark?" he asked blankly.

"For the one I burned, 'course. In exchange, or something. It was Demyx's idea."

There was an awkward silence during which Zexion did his best not to turn an angry glare on the boy – his patient. Axel was a patient now. And it was thanks to Demyx that he wasn't willing to kick the redhead out.

"…Ah." There was another silence as he eyed his shark warily. "Why, precisely, is it on my desk?"

"Eh, well, didn't know what else to do with it." That smirk again. It was absolutely infuriating. He cleared his throat and met the other's eyes.

"I believe you are missing something else that you were supposed to have. A brain, if I recall," he stated with _just_ enough sarcasm for Axel to notice.

"Hey now, no call to be rude. I've got your brain right here," he said as he pulled it out from a sack on his side – thankfully in a jar, this time.

It struck the doctor suddenly that there weren't _that_ many places in which one could acquire brains, and in addition to that the redhead was technically confined to the asylum for the duration of his stay. It also occurred to him that it might be better not to ask.

Then, without another word, the boy turned around and walked through the door with a wave over his shoulder, leaving a very wet shark and a brain on the desk of an extremely flustered doctor.

Zexion offered a halfhearted glare to the brain that floated eerily in the bubbling green liquid.

"You don't know how easy you've got it," he informed the organ wearily. There was no response.

Typical.

XXX

He knew Xemnas would come at his appointed time again today, despite everything that had happened the day before. He was not physically capable of doing otherwise. The man had not a creative synapse anywhere in that gray matter of his. Nor any set aside for pity or personal relations, it seemed.

And so, Saïx sat with his arms crossed, clenching his jaw in a way that was sure to be unhealthy, facing the doorway and waiting for the white coat.

He wasn't disappointed. When the clock read 11:02, he came sweeping in, all imperious airs and haughty looks. Much as usual.

"So." Saïx began the conversation before Xemnas could. He wouldn't let the doctor have the upper hand.

"Yes?" came his response.

"So if you think that you can use me like that, you are mistaken."

Xemnas blinked in as blank a way as he could.

"I'm sure I don't have the faintest idea what you're talking about.

"Yesterday. We were about to fuck and you kicked me out, remember?" he saw Xemnas cringe a little at the wording, but he didn't argue.

"Yes. I don't see what that has to do with using you."

"You use me to get your kicks," the patient spat, "then send me away as soon as your little crew is finished _stripping_ my room."

There was no response for a moment, but Saïx's look bespoke murder. He could see the other man considering his words carefully – a first, it seemed, for the doctor. He was choosing what he said with some thought as to the effect they would have on others. Or maybe that was giving him too much credit.

"I do not recall having a 'crew' of any kind in here during that particular incident… and I assure you, I was not getting my 'kicks.' I simply recalled that you had somehow broken out of this room and you needed to be returned to it, lest you think that escaping is an acceptable alternative."

"Fuck you," came his response with a burning glare. "Of course you had a crew in here. I saw them. And any man who can interrupt a good fuck for the sake of technicalities, I don't want to deal with."

"Very well then. That is your choice." The patient cringed when he heard the absolute tonelessness of Xemnas's response. So it didn't really matter to him at all. At least that was cleared up. "But I had no crew here. Perhaps some of the nurses took it upon themselves to search your room for contraband materials."

"They were males. We don't have any male nurses."

Xemnas paused, and gave a thoughtful look to the back wall where, unbeknownst to him, hid a small camera that transmitted all of what occurred in there to Hollow Bastion police headquarters.

"Hm. That is strange." Another pause. "In that case, I believe that I will make an enquiry as to their identities."

Saïx shot him a look of confusion, but did not respond. If they didn't belong to Xemnas's group, then who were they?

"In any case, I come bearing news. Will you listen?"

"I don't really have a choice, do I?" Saïx responded darkly.

"Some choice, although you would find out eventually either way." He took a breath, and for the first time looked Saïx directly in the eyes. "I believe that I have the capability to remove your condition, permanently, by surgical means."

Saïx couldn't prevent the almost physical recoil that was the result of that statement. There was a pause that dragged into a silence as his warring halves tore at each other. One half wanted to take the doctor's throat out for even suggesting it – _what, are you suggesting I'm _inferior_, that I need to be changed? This condition is part of who I _am – and the other part of him was nearly crying with relief. An end to incarceration, an end to being unable to control himself on the full moons? A chance at a normal life? It was almost too tempting to stand.

The third part wanted to snap at him for even suggesting that he could do it. Such a statement demanded more arrogance than Saïx thought a man capable of.

Xemnas cleared his throat loudly to break the silence.

"So. What is your response?"

"My response is a question: why do you suggest this? To what end?" He doubted that the doctor had his patient's wellbeing in mind.

"It would be beneficial to you," he responded automatically.

"Bullshit. You've never done anything because it would benefit me or anyone else. Why are you _really_ doing this?"

There was another silence, and their eyes met, connected; two pairs of golden eyes finding their match in the other. And Xemnas opened his mouth to speak. Saïx almost smiled – after all this time, the other man now deemed him worthy of explanations for his actions. It was a good feeling, knowing that.

"I am doing it because I believe I have the capability to," he replied emotionlessly – but the other man knew that this was possibly the most honest he had been in all the short time they had known each other. He watched Xemnas closely for another moment, waiting for a reaction. Finding none, he responded.

"I see, then. Just because you can." He paused. "One step higher, then?"

"I fail to see what you mean."

"Paradise Lost. You're reading it, you should understand. You're going one step higher, always, until you threaten God's authority."

"Ah. 'Lifted up so high, / I 'sdained subjection, / and thought one step higher / would set me highest?'" A pause. "You speak, then of Satan?"

"Of course. Satan. Do you not take your lesson from him? 'Yet all his good proved ill in me, / And wrought but malice.'" A breath. Hopefully this would go through to the other man – for now, the sides warring for his own well-being were silenced in favor of striking down Xemnas's arrogance.

"Perhaps he wrought malice, but Satan is nevertheless the protagonist of the story, is he not? He is the sympathetic character, because he exhibits characteristics of the human race."

"He is a protagonist fallen from grace and tortured in hell," the patient shot back.

"If there is no God, is there any grace to fall from; is there any hell in which to suffer? Are there indeed any boundaries on humanity's capabilities that his faults alone do not create?"

There was a silence. Saïx couldn't answer that. And that frustrated him to no end.

But at the same time, he felt a half-smile return slowly to his face. This was what he lived for; these moments, few and far between as they may be, moments when he felt challenged and powerful.

And he realized, watching the matching expression on Xemnas's face, that that man was the only one who had ever challenged him in this way.

_Goddammit._

Bastard was arrogant enough already _withou_t Saïx's help.

XXX

Demyx smiled a little as he watched Kairi blush and nod, agreeing with whatever his previous statement had been without really knowing what it was. And of course, his previous statement had been regarding Axel's residency in the asylum, an idea to which she had been _vehemently_ opposed only moments before. Having that effect on people was kind of nice.

The fact that he had her hand clasped between them and was definitely invading her personal space probably helped. Girls liked it when you looked them in the eye and got a little too close.

"Yeah, of course. I completely agree with you," she said with a dazed little smile.

"Excellent. I hope, then, there's no problem with Axel staying in Roxas's room? No? Good, thank you very much! You've been a big help." He beamed at her radiantly, then gave her a quick little bow and exited her tiny workroom, only to meet face to face with Zexion in the hallway. He shut the door out of habit and smiled at the other.

"Hey, Zexy. What brings you here?"

Zexion had an eyebrow raised and half a smile, so that Demyx wasn't quite sure if he was amused or annoyed. Probably something of a mixture of both.

"Do you… do that to everyone you know?" he asked instead of answering the question, with a nod in the direction of Kairi's closed door for explanation.

"Do what?" he said innocently, with the wide-eyed look he'd mastered.

Zexion closed his mouth into a thin line and looked away – it was really cute, actually, how awkward he was in social situations.

"Charm them witless," the doctor responded reluctantly, without meeting the blonde's eyes. Demyx gave a little laugh in response.

"Oh, that? That wasn't charming. You'll know when I've started really trying. I save that for the _really_ special people," he said with a wink and a grin, to which Zexion seemed to have no coherent response, if the little choking noises he was making were any indicator.

Excellent.

XXX

Roxas blanched a little as he heard Kairi's request – it was something that was completely reasonable from a logical standpoint. They messed the windows up with cat drippings, so they were going to have to clean them up. Only problem with that was, poor Roxas was desperately afraid of heights. _That_ much, at least, he remembered.

Oh, he was good enough with them when he wasn't dangling four or five stories off the ground on one of those carriage things that window-cleaners use. When the ground was solid, he was pretty ok. The minute the ground stopped being solid, he started freaking out.

"Yeah, no problem," he heard Axel respond nonchalantly from his left.

_No, __not__ 'no problem,'_ he thought._ Big problem_. He didn't voice his opinion on the matter, though. Axel was liable to mock him for the rest of his life, and that wasn't a prospect at which he looked with any particular enthusiasm.

It didn't take long at all – far too little time, in fact – for them to get onto the roof, and only moments after that they were stepping off the roof ­– off the roof, off thefucking _roof_ – onto the plywood platform that held all their cleaning equipment. Roxas was sure he felt his face go white as a sheet the moment his foot touched down, and he thanked the gods that Axel was looking up, talking to the nurse, and couldn't see the terror.

"Alright then, it's off to work we go," he quipped as soon as the nurse left.

"Yeah," the blonde responded in a tiny, weak voice.

"What was that? Couldn't hear you, Rox. Gotta speak up," the other said with what must have been quite the winning grin, if only Roxas could see it. Instead, he was quite focused on the plywood, hoping that it wouldn't – oh god it was, it was moving, they were dropping, and he wasn't going to say anything but oh my _god_ the ground was coming at him faster than he was entirely comfortable with.

"Rox, you alright there?" he said, evidently referring to Roxas's lack of a response rather than his chalk-white face.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Let's just be quick about this, okay?" he managed to squeak out. He was quite proud of himself, really.

"Yeah, fine. There are more fun things to do than clean windows, anyway." Roxas wasn't watching the other at all, and had in fact entirely forgotten about the other's presence when the carriage stopped at the middle of the enormously tall dining-hall window, where the cat-stains still were. He didn't know if he'd ever been as grateful for anything in his life as he was for the cessation of movement, closely seconded by the presence of drapes so nobody could see his panic. No-one but Axel, anyway.

His temporary peace was disturbed momentarily as the platform began to shake again, and he turned to see what was the cause of the godawful shaking only to find Axel about three inches from his face.

"Axel, what the hell…" he asked, but the question was interrupted as the redhead's lips met his, to Roxas's immense and unyielding shock. He was so shocked, in fact, that he completely lost his balance and backed up into the railing, leaning on it to the point where their floor was at an angle up.

And he tried, really he did, but he couldn't stop the panicked flail that ended with him latched onto Axel for dear life, and with their kiss – and the moment – totally broken.

"God, make it stop the platform is at a fucking _angle_ and we're going to fall off and die and god, I have to get off of here," Roxas said all in one breath, looking with huge eyes down at the ground, four stories below.

"…What? Roxas, what's wrong?" he asked, rather dumbfounded at the reaction his kiss had gotten.

"We are going to _fall _and _die,_ that is what's wrong!" he moaned, all thoughts for keeping his dignity intact forgotten what with the combined impact of his own phobias and Axel's sex drive.

Suddenly, Roxas heard a noise from in front of him that might have – _possibly_ – indicated understanding. About goddamn time.

"…Why didn't you tell me you're afraid of heights?"

"…Not good time. Ask me later."

"Alright. Calm down, baby, we're going up," he said in a soothing voice, for which he was actually kind of grateful. He was vaguely surprised, even through his terror, that the term sounded more endearing than insulting coming from Axel. Even more surprising given recent developments.

And almost as soon as he said that, he'd tugged some sort of line or something, and the two of them and their platform were lifted straight back to the roof again, where the redhead gently helped the other up onto the roof.

"You okay there?"

"…Yeah…" he said, looking away – as his coherency came back, he had the decency to at least be embarrassed about the scene he had caused down there. And also, looking at a man – your best friend – after he had just kissed you was more than a little awkward.

"You should have told me," he said reprovingly, crossing his arms. Told him what? Oh. Yeah. That.

"Yeah, well."

Axel gave an expressive shrug, then offered Roxas a smile.

"Ok, well, I'm gonna go back down and finish cleaning everything. You go calm down, okay? I dunno. Watch some TV or something."

Roxas blinked and furrowed his brow in confusion.

"But wait, you're going to go do that by yourself?"

"Yeah, sure. You're not really in any shape to help out," he jibed gently.

Roxas flinched. Point taken. He needed a bit to sort things out, anyway.

"You sure about that."

"Not a problem, shrimp. Now get the hell outta here."

Axel, no matter what he wanted other people to think, was really kind of sweet, Roxas mused. Kind of weird, but sweet just the same.

XXX

A cool breeze met Riku's face upon exiting the headquarters, for which he was very grateful; the day was hot and muggy, precisely the sort of day he hated. He was much more of a dry-weather person, really.

"So what was up with you back there?" Sora asked quietly as soon as they were out of the headquarters' visual range.

"It's nothing, don't worry about it," he responded with a distracted smile. The name had just caught him off-guard, was all.

"No, I'm pretty sure it's something," he responded disbelievingly.

Dammit. Sometimes Sora was too perceptive for his own good. He sighed quietly and brushed a hand through his hair, absently settling it back into place.

"Fine, then." He paused. "Setzer is… a familiar name. From the old days." It was quite clear to both of them which "old days" were being referred to. Riku's time as a gang leader wasn't a common topic of conversation, but when they spoke about it, it was important enough to be implicitly understood.

"And how, then, do you know his name?" The brunette wasn't going to let it drop.

"I… had some dealings with him. This just brought back some memories, is all. Don't worry about it, I'm telling you."

"…If you say so, Riku…" he responded patiently. "Then, can you give us any information that might help us catch the guy?"

"Uh…" He paused thoughtfully for a moment. "Well. He's got silver hair like mine – it's not easy to miss – and has a tendency to dress really flamboyantly. Quite the pimp, really. That's about all I remember, but…" Another pause. "I might can find out where he's running this from if I can wrangle a few favors from my old contacts.

There was another silence, during which Riku kicked a pebble that was lying on the concrete. Childish, maybe, but amusing nonetheless.

"So, are you going to take the case?" his partner asked quietly, watching a bird hop onto the sidewalk. "I mean, you might end up hurting people you knew, once upon a time…"

"Don't care," was his curt response. "They chose a life of crime. They knew the risks. I'm not going to go easy on them."

Sora paused and glanced at his lover sidelong.

"Alright… if that's what you want. But I could take this case myself, you know. Leave you out of it."

Riku's expression darkened almost instantly. He would _not_ allow that, under any conceivable circumstances.

"No. Absolutely not. You're not taking a case like this alone – and I don't want to give it up anyway."

"Hey! I could handle it myself," Sora responded indignantly. "I got this badge for a reason. I passed the test too, you know." Riku gave him a small smile in response – he always reacted like this, like it was some kind of competition. It was kind of cute. Without another word, he then pulled the brunette forward into a lingering embrace.

"I know," he said quietly into Sora's hair. "But humor me, ok? I don't know what I'd do if anything ever happened to you."

There was a silence, and Riku could feel Sora's breath on his shoulder.

"Ok," came his small response. "I understand. Because… I don't know what I would do if anything happened to you, either."

XXX

A few hours after the window-washing disaster, Axel finally mustered up the guts to go find Roxas. He seemed to be in his room – no surprise there – and he hesitated for only a moment before knocking.

"Roxas, you there?" he asked quietly, trying not to be intrusive after the events earlier in the day. He was still a little uncomfortable: he hadn't been able to gauge Roxas' reaction through the panic attack, so now was just like kissing him over again. Only with all of the awkward and none of the fun.

"Yeah," came Roxas's voice from the other side of the door.

The redhead pulled the door open silently, glancing quickly over Roxas's seated form before lodging themselves directly on the floor. He was more comfortable that way, at least for now. He sat down on the bed, directly across from where the blonde was sitting, listening to the bed creak instead of breaking the silence.

"…Hey," he finally said.

"Hey."

"So, umm…" He paused again before steeling himself to continue. "Sorry 'bout today. Both of it. Of them. I mean, everything." Shit, he was usually _good_ with words. They didn't all come tumbling out at once like this.

The redhead looked up nervously, only to see Roxas trying to hide a tiny smile. Encouraged by this development, he continued.

"I don't know what I was thinking. Eh, well, I wasn't thinking, really, I guess." He gave a smirk. "Easier to have fun when you're not thinkin' about the consequences, yeah?"

Roxas raised an eybrow.

"Easier to have fun." He paused. "So what in hell brought on _that_ kind of response?"

"Um, stupidity?"

"Avoiding the question," the blonde accused.

"It's not avoiding the question if it's true," he stated with a grin. Even the awkwardness of the situation couldn't dampen his spirits for long.

"Still. I want a better answer than that."

"I guess saying that I'm bi won't cut it? I guess that's obvious enough." His grin grew slowly. "If they're hot, I won't say no to either sex."

"…Oh. You're one of those," Roxas responded. It was faint, but he was fairly sure he detected a bit of disappointment in the blonde's tone. Axel wasn't sure whether to feel relieved by the kid's interest or ashamed of himself. He settled for the former. Crappy moods didn't really suit him.

"Eh, I was. Reformed now." There was a surprised blink from across the room.

"Reformed? Why? How recently?"

Axel smirked again.

"Two days or so. Why'd I change? 'Cause I found somethin' better than the shit I'd been doing before."

There was another pause, and this time it was Roxas who wouldn't meet the other's eyes.

"You changed, for me?" he asked.

Axel snorted by way of a response.

"Not too big a deal, let me assure you. I mean, whores are fun for the first little bit, then they get kinda old." He was, of course, playing it down; it's not like he _didn't _have fun with the people he'd been screwing. If he hadn't been having fun, he wouldn't have done it.

And Roxas smiled and looked back up, because it seemed, at least for the moment, that he got it.

"I know you're probably not telling me something – I know this about you, I know things about you that are really confusing, given that I can't remember anything else. But that's okay. We have a while, after all."

Axel blinked.

"So… you're not mad at me?"

"Not particularly. A little confused, sure, but not mad."

"…Can I do it again, then?"

"…Don't push it," the blonde responded with a smile.

It was that smile that made the conversation feel a little bit less like rejection, and a little bit more like possibility. And possibility was a whole hell of a lot better than nothing.

XXX

It took Saïx three whole days of thought to finally decide on his answer to Xemnas's proposition. So when the doctor entered his room at eight in the evening – a departure from normal procedure, but at least it had been scheduled first – he was ready. Perhaps not as ready as he would like, but ready, still.

"I'm going to accept your offer," said the patient without any kind of preliminary discussion.

The expression on Xemnas's face was nothing short of shocked. By Xemnas's standards, anyway – Saïx had partly learned to interpret his movements by this time.

"Is that so," the doctor responded thoughtfully. "I had been sure that you would refuse."

"Yes, well… The idea of spending the rest of my life caged up in here is not particularly appealing," he responded darkly, halfway ashamed of his acceptance and also partly relieved that he had, at last, made his choice.

"I see," Xemnas responded. "Then we will begin preparations tomorrow. You will not regret it." He paused. "But there are more important things to tend to at the moment."

"Such as?"

"Tonight is the full moon."

Saïx blinked in shock – it had been five full days since he had been removed from his medicine, but he had been so worried about other matters – like the possible cure – that anything else became quite secondary. And his monthly wildnesses were so much of a pattern for him that they no longer attracted much interest, at any rate.

"Is it really," he said, voice betraying far less nervousness than he felt. This would be his first unmedicated rage since he mauled his brother years ago.

"It is. I came in to inform you of procedure."

"I suggest you put me in a straightjacket," he interrupted curtly. "Your nurses cannot cut my nails, and I pose a danger to anyone who is with me."

"Advice noted," responded Xemnas, apparently unflustered.

"I will be watching from a camera that I have set up here," he continued. "My expertise lies not in the direct psychological treatment of illnesses, but rather in the analysis of them and creation of medicines or cures. Someone else will be here to attend you during."

"Who?"

"I had thought that it would be best to send someone you know. Zexion, perhaps?"

"That would be… acceptable."

"Someone will be down momentarily to bind you. Please, until then, be patient; moonrise is not until nine-thirty."

Saïx thought silently that it couldn't be far enough away.

XXX

Zexion's day had been a monotonous one, just routine check-ups and treatments. There hadn't been a peep from Axel's direction, for which he was simultaneously grateful and resentful, and he suddenly found himself missing the excitement he had grown accustomed to.

And so, when Xemnas's assistant brought the notice that he was to assist Saïx during his berserker fit, he found himself more excited about that than he ever thought he would be. Generally he would dread being assigned to Saïx's room during the full moon. But a little bit of excitement did not seem like too much to ask.

He dropped everything he was doing almost instantly in favor of beginning his walk down to Saïx's room – it was nine-fifteen already, and moonrise would be in a quarter hour.

He had always privately wondered what Saïx would be like during the full moon; but he had never wanted to intrude upon the other man by asking to stay and watch. Under Xemnas's orders, however, and with Saïx's evident approval, he would finally get to observe this anomaly of human psychology. He was sure it would be fascinating.

It took him less than five minutes to reach Saïx's door, which he opened quietly after hearing no response to his soft knock. He gave the room a cursory glance, but it was empty. Saïx would be in the back room, then.

He entered the back room just as silently as he had the first, and was greeted by the sight of Saïx's form, crouching in the dead center of the room. The first thing he noticed was that the arms were bare. No jacket, no rope, no nothing.

And the door was locked from the outside.

He looked up slowly to meet Saïx's golden eyes, almost glowing in the twilight; and in them he saw a bestiality that he had not thought to be possible in a human being. Moonrise had come early.

The man bared his fangs in a silent greeting; the greeting that a wolf gives to its rival before the deathmatch.

For three years, Saïx's animal instincts had been bottled up. Three years, the wolf had been waiting to escape. Tonight, he was out – and it looked like he was in the mood to flex his muscles. And now he had the perfect target to flex his muscles on.

_Shit_.

XXX

XXX

A/N: Speak to me?


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Saïx's body was tensed carefully, feral in its perfect efficiency, hard stare falling directly on the doctor. Zexion took a step back carefully, slowly, not wanting to incur the other's anger.

"Saïx," he said as calmly as he could manage. "I'm not here to hurt you. Please." He wasn't even quite sure what he had been asking for.

And then suddenly, without any preliminary actions, the patient sprang into motion; he leapt through the air with a deadly precision directly at the exposed hollow of Zexion's throat. The doctor side-stepped it on instinct born from years of practice, wincing in sympathy as the patient's claws gouged slices out of the wooden doorframe.

"Please, listen to me. Saïx. Don't do this. I'm your friend, don't you remember?" He paused, inching away from Saïx almost unnoticeably. "You are human. You can control yourself," he reasoned, with little hope that it might have an effect. But if reason was his only recourse, then he had no choice but to try.

As he had predicted, there was no sign of understanding from the other man; instead, he turned again, still on all fours, to meet Zexion's eyes harshly. The doctor's intellectual curiosity almost got the better of him at that moment; he was considering moving forward, really trying to communicate with this man, this creature. He wanted to make the man understand.

But as he paused, he watched the man in front of him, scrutinizing his appearance; tiny rivulets of blood ran out of the corners of his mouth, staining his lips a dark crimson. His hair was wild and shaken, framing his face in a portrait of pure rage, and his eyes shot erratically – tremulously – from one end of the room to another, as if he were in a dream-state. But it was all too clear that the man was not sleeping.

He opened his mouth in a snarl, and in the cold illumination of the humming lights, Zexion could see where the perfect ivory of Saïx's fangs was painted red, and where his lips were torn with the force of his own fury.

This, finally, startled him into action; he looked around the pale room for something, anything at all, that he might could employ as a defense, but found nothing. This would be because of the nurses' caution, of course; but by making Saïx less dangerous, they also sealed the doctor's fate, it seemed.

But then, his gaze settled on the small couch, where he noticed the deep red corner of a tome emerging from under a cushion; and in a flash, he had retrieved it, and was in a defensive position. It was the complete works of Shakespeare – his hard-bound version, in fact: bound with maple wood and leather. A shame to lose such a nice book, really, but it was thick and heavy enough to both serve as an adequate defense and as a weapon.

He reconciled himself to that fact when he realized that if he didn't use it, he might not live to read it again.

All these thoughts passed through his mind in barely seconds – and through this time, Saïx tracked his movement with a wary eye. Now, seeing that his opponent had a weapon, he started into a loping run in such a way that he still appeared to be half-crouched despite running on his two feet. This time, as their bodies drew closer, Zexion was able to use the book as a bludgeon into the other man's chest, grateful in that moment for years spent training with his mother in the martial arts. The book – thankfully – arrested the other's forward motion, and he sprang back, recoiling from the pain and with a growing look of fire in his eyes.

"I don't want to hurt you," he said, as soon as the distance between them was comfortable again. "Please don't make me," he asked – but he would not plead. Even now, his dignity would not allow that.

There was an almost human snort of derision from the man at that, and Zexion winced. Of course, there was reason for the laugh; it wasn't like he could do a huge amount of damage to the other man. He had the benefit of animal instincts, rage, and natural weaponry.

But in the midst of everything, a thought suddenly occurred to him: Xemnas was probably watching this whole exchange, from some office somewhere. Also… he hadn't bound Saïx, and that wasn't the sort of thing that slipped one's mind.

"Xemnas, are you listening?" he called out, hoping that he also had the sound projecting into his room. Knowing him, he probably would. "What in hell do you think you're doing?" he continued loudly, giving his slate-colored bangs a quick toss so as to better see his opponent. There was no response from the loudspeakers. Either the sound wasn't on, or the Superior simply wasn't responding.

But his monologue was interrupted when Saïx leapt forward again; and this time, the man was prepared when the doctor blocked him with the book. His other hand came up faster than the wind, and managed to nick Zexion's arm in such a way that drew more than a little blood before the book came in for a crushing blow to the side of his head, which knocked him off his balance but otherwise left him uninjured, it seemed.

He again sprang back to his earlier position, regrouping, and it occurred to the doctor that this was what they called harrying. It was a technique wolves used to bring down large prey without hurting themselves – quickly in, quickly out, cause little bits of damage over and over again until the prey crumpled from exhaustion. Then they went in for the kill.

So it was to be a battle of endurance, then. He chose that moment to make another entreaty to the invisible presence that hung over the room.

"Xemnas, this is crazy! One or both of us is going to get hurt! You don't want your precious pet project dying, and I'm one of the best doctors you have." He took another breath. "You can't do this. And if either of us died, you would be charged with negligent manslaughter, if not outright murder. Stop it, now: you know the door's locked, and I don't have the key."

Finally, a voice crackled through the loudspeakers.

"Very well, then," it said in a way that sounded unhappy, but resigned. "I have my data on this phenomenon, and it would also benefit me to see how he responds to restraints. Assistance will be along shortly. Thank you for your assistance."

The doctor growled at the Superior's apparent indifference to his peril, but gave the patient a wary look after Xemnas's response. Evidently, he understood enough to realize that restraints were on their way, and that seemed only to incite him further; his body was so tense, now, that a blood vessel seemed to have broken in his left eye, coating it in red. His golden iris stuck out like a beacon from the scarlet: and this unnerved Zexion so much that he barely at all noticed Saïx's sudden movement.

That oversight was remedied quickly enough by the sudden, startling feeling of claws in his gut, scoring three slashes inches deep into the flesh. They weren't clean cuts, either – and Saïx's claws came away with bits of Zexion's flesh on them. As the hands pulled back, the doctor watched dispassionately as a rope of fluids and blood stretched between them and snapped, dripping blood on the floor.

The patient's hands were covered in blood, now, and he didn't seem to mind: in fact, he looked like he was enjoying it. Zexion shivered in abject terror, moving backwards, pain masked by adrenaline, for now.

He wondered, in that moment, if he was going to die: the thought had never really struck him before. It wasn't a topic upon which he spent a lot of thought. But he realized then that he didn't want to die – there were people in the world now that cared for his tiny existence. People who would cry if he died.

Halfway consciously and halfway out of a long-buried survival instinct, he hefted the book again, ignoring the more rational part of his mind which was telling him that those actions would only exacerbate his injuries.

In that deep red haze of reaction and blood loss, he could barely comprehend that Saïx had started at him again, but his arm moved on instinct: he hurled the book at the oncoming rush, wooden cover only barely touching his hands as it flew towards its target.

And there was a flash of _something_ – relief or light or understanding, he couldn't quite be sure – and suddenly Saïx gave a loud scream, and terrible; a noise that chilled the other to the bone as it rose and fell in pain. It was the sort of noise that had haunted men's nightmares for centuries.

The tome fell away almost in slow motion, and as it clattered to the floor, the patient could be seen clutching at his face, expression contorted in shock and suffering. Zexion could barely see the injury through the blood and behind the hands, but a quick motion on Saïx' part revealed that the book corner had gouged at least one long cut on his face, a diagonal one directly across the bridge of his nose.

The doctor took a few stumbling steps forward, one hand over the slashes in his stomach and the other reaching for something, anything that he might hold to steady his suddenly spinning world. Through the corner of his eye he saw Saïx, tearing at the cut and uncomprehending, unfocused rage.

In moments, he pulled his hands away from his face, blood dripping in abstract patterns down his face and shoulders and staining his white suit in neon drips of crimson.

The last thing that Zexion noticed before his vision went black was that, somehow, his cut and the other made by Saïx had become a perfect cross-shape. Ironic.

_The world is a funny place_, he thought distantly, watching the scene from somewhere above his own body. Then, the world inverted like a negative photograph, and he saw no more.

XXX

It was a pure coincidence that Sora just happened to be watching the video feeds from the asylum that night.

When a slate-haired doctor entered the patient's room, he thought that it was mildly strange, as the patient was under solitary confinement according to Kairi. However, within moments, all the blood had drained from his face, and he felt the need to interrupt Riku from where he was furiously writing at his desk.

"Um, Riku..? I think you need to see this," he said faintly.

"Can it wait?" came the curt reply. He didn't like being interrupted.

"Not really…"

Sora's partner stood with a small huff, but walked over to the screen just in time to see the man who was presumably a doctor pick up a huge, heavy book for the purpose, it seemed, of defending himself from the patient. It appeared that the patient was entirely out of control; he was attacking the doctor with abandon and – inexplicably – left a cut on the man's arm only with what appeared to be his bare hands.

"What in _hell?!_" Riku asked with a mixture of shock and anger as he saw the patient attack again, and again; and the doctor seemed incapable of doing anything about it.

"…The patient is dangerous and probably armed, somehow. This has to be _that man_'s doing," Sora said darkly, referring to Kairi's boss.

"…Can we get him for negligence, do you think? Allowing one of his doctors – or at least I assume he's a doctor – in with someone this dangerous, without backup or handcuffs. This is probably," he mused, "a result of the Superior taking away his medications. If only we can get that doctor's testimony without arousing suspicion… then we've probably got him." This should have been a moment of triumph for both of them, but their shock and anger were such that they left very little room for triumph.

This man had no right whatsoever to freedom.

XXX

Demyx was pulled sharply out of a deep slumber way at somewhere around midnight by a sudden slam of his door.

"What are you doing here at this time of night?" he asked the intruder groggily, rubbing at one eye in an attempt to wake himself. "It's at least an hour 'till I need meds." Once his vision cleared, he was greeted by the sight of Kairi standing in the doorway, looking pale-white and tense – completely the opposite of her normal bubbly demeanor.

"I can't stay for long, I have to go help; but I thought you might like to know. Zexion just went into surgery. We think we can save him, but it's about a seventy-thirty chance, with thirty on him dying," she said all in one breath, as if she had either been running or was scared shitless, either of which was a distinct possibility.

"Wait, what?!" He could feel the blood draining out of his face. "No, you can't tell me this and then run out like that. What happened to him? What's wrong?" he said frantically, shooting up out of bed in half an instant. He could feel his own pulse increase, and his breath came shorter; telltale signs of an oncoming panic attack.

"He's hurt," she responded quietly, finally fixing her erratic gaze on him. "Saïx went into berserker mode tonight, and Zexion was on watch with him; only somehow, someone neglected to tie him up so he couldn't damage anything." She paused for a slow breath. "And I know this must be hard for you – Saïx was your friend too, wasn't he? – but the patient mauled Zexion pretty badly." A pause. "His claws are dangerous."

There was a moment of silence while Demyx waited for the information to process.

"You're telling me… that Saïx fucking _mauled_ Zexion?"

"Sorry, but yes," she said with a pained look.

"Where is he?" It still wasn't processing – he could only assume that he was in denial.

"He's in surgery right now, I told you. You can't go see him for at least another four or so hours."

There was another silence, and Demyx looked down at the floor, arms crossed nervously. He didn't remember ever having been so scared.

"So… Thank you, Kairi. I appreciate you telling me this... You should get back to him, though," he said, voice wavering. "If I can't be there, then at least… someone should be able to. Someone who knows him." There was another pause. "And if… if something happens…" His voice, already tremulous, finally cracked under the strain with those words, and he couldn't continue.

"I'll come tell you immediately," she said, so that he wouldn't have to.

And with that, she left, red hair blatantly out of place in the chalk-white hallway, leaving Demyx to his thoughts.

It was going to be a really long night.

XXX

The first thing Zexion saw as he regained consciousness was a large black box with lines on it. The frustrating thing about them is that they wouldn't stay still, and they were all blurring together for some reason.

It took him a bit – maybe two minutes – to realize that there was probably only one line, and that the box was a heart monitor. He could have grown a second heart, but he doubted that.

His immediate instinct was to sit up and look at his surroundings, but an immense pain in his gut told him that wouldn't be possible.

Ah. The pain. He remembered now. So, he was alive, then.

He tried to glance around his room from where he lay on the bed, but found that his vision was useless beyond about three feet. Must have had something to do with the medicine. He felt more relaxed than he'd felt in… well, a very long time.

Funny thing was, he mused as he lay immobile on the hospital bed, that he didn't really hold any of this against Saïx at all. Or even Xemnas; none of this was on purpose, of course. The Superior was far too kind a man to let something like that happen to his doctors on purpose. It occurred to him that the world was a happy place when one was on morphine.

A slightly more lucid thought interrupted the train of dreamy idealism slowly, drifting across his mind like a lazy cloud. All of his thoughts were kind of lazy today. But the thought stopped to say its piece, and what it said was, _hello, glad you're feeling better – what time do you think it is_? And then, _Demyx_ – without any kind of explanation or anything. And then he was off with a tip of his hat before Zexion had a chance to ask him what he was talking about. Dammit.

XXX

Demyx had been waiting in Zexion's room for at least three hours. They told him that he'd wake when he was ready, but he was getting more and more impatient as time went by. The operation had been a success – thank god – and Zexion was recovering admirably. All except for the not-waking-up part.

So, when he finally heard a muffled groan from the bed, he almost jumped on the other man – then remembered suddenly that that would probably be the worst possible thing to do in the situation. He settled instead for bounding over, beaming – and words started streaming out of his mouth before he even understood them.

"Zexion! You're awake!" he said as he skidded to a rather energetic stop by the invalid's steel-cold hospital bed. "Oh, I was so worried about you. I'm so glad you're up! How are you feeling?"

"…I'm not sure…" came the groggy response from the patient. How funny, their roles were kind of reversed now.

"Well? Do you hurt?"

"My head hurts. Everything's kind of swimming." Demyx watched excitedly as Zexion's one visible eye pulled itself open with what looked like considerable effort. After a brief pause, during which the slate-haired man examined his surroundings warily, he cleared his throat and spoke.

"…Can you ask the nurses to lower my morphine dosage?" he asked wryly.

"Why's that?"

"…I think I'm hallucinating."

That earned a chuckle from Demyx; he could only imagine what Zexion would be hallucinating. In fact, it occurred to him that at this moment he could probably ask the other man anything at all and get a truthful, smiling answer. But he wouldn't do that to Zexion. Really.

He spent the next at least thirty minutes trying to convince himself of that.

"So what are you seeing?" he asked, to take his mind off temptation.

"…Flowers. Lots of flowers. Blue and yellow flowers."

Demyx blinked, then gave a startled laugh.

"Um, no, actually, those are real."

As Demyx's eyes roved the room, all he could see was an ocean of flowers – flowers in vases and pots, in boxes or bouquets. They coated every spare bit of the floor and windowsills, leaving only a very thin path from the chair in which Demyx had been sitting to Zexion's bed and another to the door.

"…They're real," he said disbelievingly.

"Yeah. I kind of bought them for you – with a little help, true – and brought 'em all in here. I thought it would kind of brighten up the place, y'know? This whole building's just so _gloomy_."

"I guess it is, isn't it?" There was a pause. "White was never really my color, anyway," he informed the blonde dazedly. He couldn't help but smile – this Zexion was a little bit out of character, but cute nonetheless; a lot more open, at least, that was for sure.

And he thought that even though this new version was kind of fun, he couldn't wait for _his_ Zexy to get back. Even though he was stoic and taciturn, he knew that life would be much less enjoyable without the other man's company.

But that was all right, because he never planned on leaving.

XXX

"Who, me? I didn't do a thing," Axel said cheekily, exaggerating his shock and offense with a dramatic hand to his chest. Vexen did not look amused. Damn him.

The doctor's eyebrows shot up in such a way that almost his entire face contorted with the motion. It was more than a little creepy, really. His face was really… mobile. Almost like rubber. The redhead couldn't help but stare at the brows even while the other man was talking.

"There is no other logical reason for the samples to be in the wrong containers, unless you're suggesting that they walked themselves or were magically transported." The disdain was obvious in his voice as he spoke, but Axel wasn't bothered.

"Hey, you never know."

"…Yes, I do. You will begin to replace them as soon as possible." A pause. "Now, in fact."

Aw damn. That man had no sense of pity. Or humor, either.

"But I didn't do it!" he whined. Hard work and him just didn't get along, really. "And if I did, it was an accident when I was cleaning up. Scout's honor," he said with a surprisingly good impression of the salute. "And besides," he continued with a smirk. "I don't know where all the samples go."

He watched Vexen flinch in response, animated as always and slightly disturbing in the intensity of his stare. Can't argue with logic, after all!

The redhead couldn't help but notice that one of his eyes was bigger than the other – then realized with a kind of amused amazement that it was actually just popping a little ways out of his skull with the intensity of his stare. Goddamn, how did he _do_ that?!

"…Very well then. I suppose that you would only destroy my lab further if given the opportunity to do so. In this case, you are to stay away from the Lab _under all circumstances._"

"…Aww, you're no fun."

"…You astound me with your stupidity."

"I do my best. Just one of the many services I offer." He decided not to go into the _other_ services he offered.

Vexen gave him a strange look – stranger than normal – and Axel just laughed. The doctor thought he had won; but in reality, this just meant he was going to have to get creative.

The blonde thought he was perfectly safe, of course; and so he walked away, totally oblivious of the fact that just then, war had been declared upon his ass.

XXX

Saïx had not moved from his bed ever since the disaster. He had refused to move, refused to speak to anyone, including – especially – Xemnas, who had come in to explain things, evidently; but he left once it became apparent that his words were garnering no response from the other man. The nurses had come in and tried to give him first aid, but one snarl and they left him alone. Everyone would probably be back soon; but his response would be the same.

The scene kept replaying in the patient's head – his hand, his claws, tearing through cloth, then flesh – and he couldn't help but wonder; why hadn't he stopped? He had been lucid enough – at least, he remembered being so – and though his thoughts were animalistic, he could to some degree comprehend the human tongue.

He had seen Zexion as such a threat, a terrible threat, in that moment; but now he felt the man's presence hanging over him like a shadow, instead. Like hands choking at his throat, constricting his breath and his thoughts, choking his straining heart in their grip.

It occurred to him obscurely that this must be what guilt felt like.

Still, he had his friend's blood on his hands. He would not wash it off.

His internal soliloquy was interrupted by a soft rap at his door, to which he did not respond. It opened, then, almost silently; revealing an awkward-looking Demyx on the other side. He was grateful in that moment for the boy; because he, at least, could distract him from the magnitude of his actions.

"Hey, Saïx? You ok in there?" he asked, genuinely concerned.

"…I am." Those were the first words he had spoken since Xemnas left his room the night before. They felt raw and strange in his mouth.

He visibly brightened at that response.

"You spoke! Xemnas told me you weren't speaking. I was kind of worried, so I came down."

He turned over on his side, watching the blonde. He was grateful for the concern, even if, after everything, maybe he didn't deserve it.

There was a silence.

"I've been with Zexion. He's alright. He wants you to know that he doesn't blame you at all. Also… sorry about the injury." The boy gestured at his face, where the cross-shaped wound sat directly between his eyes. At least it had stopped bleeding, now. It had been ruining his bedsheets.

"…Tell him that I hold no grudge, and would not argue with him if he hated me forever."

"Ah, Zexy's not like that. He's ok, you're ok, so let's put all this behind us, alright? I mean, he doesn't want you in here forever. You probably are trying to punish yourself for it or something – well don't. Totally out of your control," he said matter-of-factly.

And somehow, hearing this in such a no-nonsense way from the kid made him feel even just a tiny bit better.

"So anyway, you look like shit. Let's go get you cleaned up," he offered with a small smile, somehow managing to break the tense mood just with those small words.

"…Your tact is less than admirable," he replied, trying not to sound amused as he sat up from his bed and gave his hair a quick toss.

"Not a strong point of mine."

And he almost smiled, because he could feel the weight lifting, even if just a little.

XXX

It took Riku the better part of the next day to find Luxord again. The man had never stayed in one place for very long, but he left a trail, for those who knew where to look. Thankfully, the cop could still figure it out.

Luxord was the kind of man who sat quite happily astride the law between lawfulness and illegality, playing his cards just right so that he maxed out his profits while never _technically_ doing anything illegal – or at least never getting caught at it. But he mixed with all the cheaters, gang members, and general criminals in the area – he lent them money – and for that reason was an invaluable source of information, if you could pry it out of him.

Riku tended to find that when people owed you their lives, they were a lot more compliant.

The suave Englishman ran a fairly legitimate, if small, casino on the borders of Twilight Town, now, because it was still legal there; the place at least looked tidy, Riku noted, and seemed to garner the sort of late-night twenty-something crowd that wore glitzy jewelry – probably fake – and hung out in clubs until two in the morning. The man didn't mind though – they were generally the type of kids who were on the rise in the world and could have extortion exacted upon them with an ease that had always made Riku shake his head in disgust.

"Hey, Luxord?" he said, entering the joint with a quick scan of his surroundings. He was alone, today – he didn't want to spook his contact – and so took extra care to check his back. Getting stabbed – again – wasn't really high on his list of priorities. The one from Seifer had only just started to really heal.

"Yeah, what is it?" came a distinctly British voice from the back. Towards the back, a blonde head was bobbing up and down as he arranged boxes of some kind in neat stacks, his back to the door.

"Long time no see, huh? It's Riku."

There was a pause, and the figure in front of him froze, then stood and turned in a slow motion.

"Riku? Bloody hell, what are you doing here?" he said, grin spreading gradually across his face as he realized exactly who he was speaking to.

"I was in the neighborhood, so I stopped by to say hello," he said, smiling in return. "How are you? How're the kids?"

This was something of an inside joke between them; Luxord, of course, had no children, but he had a vintage Porsche and a cream-colored Lexus that he loved more than life itself. This wasn't an exaggeration.

The blonde laughed, leaning comfortably against the counter.

"They're fine, dandy. I installed butterfly-doors on the Lexus. You should see her – she's quite the sight."

"Yeah, well, maybe I will someday soon. Listen, I have to get back to headquarters – I'm on break right now – but I'd like to ask a favor."

"Oh yeah, I heard you went and got yourself a job with the coppers, eh? How's that for you?"

"Good. Got myself a beat and everything. Made a lot of progress this year."

"Yeah? Well, I hope you remember our many close years of friendship when you're deciding whether or not t' put me in the shutter," he said with a laugh.

"Yeah, don't worry about it. But anyway, about that favor. You know a guy called Setzer?"

"Sure. Kind of a hot-shot around here. Runs a big operation. Owes me twenty thousand, the bastard." Riku felt relief immediately upon hearing this statement; he didn't know where else he could look if Luxord couldn't help him out.

"Can you get me in touch with this guy?"

"…If he's going to be taken away, probably not."

"Listen, I can make it worth your while."

"…How 'bout the twenty thousand he owes me plus another, eh, I'll make it ten for you."

Riku blanched a little at that – the figure was a little high for his budget, to say the very least.

"…Thirty thousand's a bit much."

"Take his cash. He's got it locked away somewhere."

"…I wonder if this is considered bribery?"

"You'll never find out if they don't find out, mate."

"…You realize that I'm the 'they,' now, don't you?" he responded wryly.

"Eh, well, you're not breaking the rules, just… bending them a little," the Brit said with a cheeky grin.

Riku laughed.

"Alright then. Get me my info and I'll get you your cash."

"Sure thing."

And Riku thought with a smile that this was the first thing to have gone right all day.

XXX

Zexion was hazily awake – not quite there, but not quite asleep either – when Demyx came back into the room, followed by Saïx. He looked surprisingly normal – he was clean again, and although his left eye was still filled with blood and kind of eerie, the expression on his face was calm, again.

"Hey Zexy, I brought someone!" Demyx said cheerily, almost bouncing over to his chair, where he collapsed dramatically in a little heap. "Man, glad to be back. Anyway, Saïx kind of wanted to talk to you."

It was apparent after a short silence that Saïx didn't quite know where to begin, so Zexion – now, thankfully, more coherent on a lower dosage of drugs – decided to start it himself.

"Look," he said quietly. "I don't hold this against you. It's not your fault; you weren't on your medicine and couldn't control your actions. If I blamed you, I'd have to blame the whole asylum for _something_."

"…Demyx said the same thing," he said, voice deep and unintentionally harsh from disuse.

"He meant it." A pause. "I meant it."

"…I apologize, just the same," he responded slowly.

"Apology accepted. And I apologize for injuring you."

"Accepted. The scar will be bad-ass," he responded with a half-smile. Zexion chuckled quietly until the pain in his stomach reminded him that he shouldn't.

"Good, now that everything's better again," piped Demyx from his corner, "Have you heard the prognosis yet?"

"…No."

"Well, they told me. You should be out of bed in a day or two, as long as you don't strain yourself once you're out there. Since you practically live here anyway they're going to let you go back to your normal duties, as long as you check in with someone every couple of hours. And." He paused, waiting for the dramatic effect. "And you should be pretty much better within a couple of months. Thankfully the cuts didn't hit anything really important."

"That's good." That was excellent, actually. The idea of being bedridden for the rest of his life had occurred to him sometime during the past three hours, and it was not an appealing one, to say the very least.

They were interrupted suddenly by a terribly loud slam from the area of the doorway. It took him less than a second to process what he saw, then try to remember the name under all the thoughts of _oh god, not __again_.

"Hey, bitches. Miss me?" The owner of the voice was blonde and female, and the expression on her face was nothing short of wicked. He noticed that she was unusually loud that day when she moved, as she seemed to have decked herself full-out with her complete collection of chains, spikes, and other various objects that looked like they might have been used as weaponry, if you had a sadistic streak and lived during the Middle Ages.

Ah yes, that was it. Larxene was her name.

These were the moments when Zexion wondered if the universe hated him.

XXX

Speak to me, please? I love you.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

"Larxene?" asked Demyx with something halfway between excitement and fear. "What are you doing here?"

"Eh, you two dumbasses are in here, and I got kicked out of the apartment, so I decided to come here," the blonde woman replied with a grin. "No sense in being all alone, huh?"

That left several questions unanswered – not least of which involved how the hell she got in here – but he decided to ask the most pressing one first.

"…Wait, you got kicked out of Axel's apartment?! Why?"

"Hey, Axel's fault. The idiot left his job and stopped making payments. I just lived there. Deal was I'd pay him back when I turn eighteen and get access to my trust fund."

He knew that Larxene's trust fund had contained over two million back when she had closed it at thirteen, probably more now with interest. But she couldn't get it yet, and so when she was kicked out of her house, she had nowhere else to go except to Axel's apartment, and now she was sleeping in parks.

"…I see." His tone was halfway in between amusement and exasperation. He liked her, really he did – but it was kind of for the same reason that people liked jumping out of planes. "Anyway, Larxene, this is Saïx. Saïx, Larxene." he said, gesturing to the man who was standing awkwardly by Zexion's bed with his arms crossed.

"Charmed," replied Saïx with as much sarcasm as he could muster up.

"Not too happy to meet you either, babe," she shot back with a scowl. Her whole body clanked and jingled as she crossed her arms with a glare.

"So, that leaves the question of how in hell you got in here. I mean, you couldn't have gone by the front desks." There were metal detectors there, and even if there hadn't been, there was no way in hell that any of the guards would have let her in with what looked like morning stars attached every couple of inches on her belt.

"Climbed in through a second-story window into some poor fucker's room. Little blonde kid, looked like he had the shit scared out of him, really." Her tone made it obvious that she had no pity for the kid, whoever it might have been, and in fact the look on her face made it seem like she was probably more triumphant than apologetic.

Demyx swallowed faintly, not wanting to think about what kind of trauma she was inflicting on the patients there.

"Larxene," he sighed, "you really shouldn't be doing stuff like that, you know. This is a hospital, not a rave, and no matter what you might have heard the drugs are _not_ free," he informed her amicably.

She made a small noise that sounded almost like a hiss – no, it really _was_ – and started towards him as if to injure him, though Demyx knew that she wouldn't actually hurt him. He was fairly sure, anyway.

"Asshole," she spat, "I could kill you ten times harder than lightning."

He was distinctly tempted to respond that maybe he _liked_ it fast and hard, but restrained himself.

"Then you'd be short one band member," he noted with only a tinge of fear. He was used to hiding it by now.

"Maybe we could find another, you fag. Someone who doesn't suck cock like you do," she said with a snarl and a wide gesture at his face that looked vaguely violent.

He started to say that _nobody_ sucked cock like he did, and then remembered Zexion was in the room and colored faintly. He didn't usually make comments quite like this – and it was evident by the expressions on both of their observers' faces that they found it more than a little shocking – but when a person was around Larxene for extended periods of time, they learned to make them as something of a defensive system. Survival of the fittest and all that.

But he wasn't exactly ready to start making those sorts of comments in front of the doctor; not if he wanted to keep him, anyway. And he did want to keep him.

"But you're not going to find another sitar player anywhere who's half as good as me," he stated simply, not bragging. That was just the truth of the matter, plain and simple.

"That's the only reason you're still alive right now, you whore."

"Aww, don't be mean," he whined, then paused, glancing at Saïx, who looked distinctly amused by the exchange. He heard a muffled laugh from beside him, and turned quickly enough to see Zexion biting his lip in laughter.

"If you don't like me being cruel, you can get the fuck out."

"Hey, this is _my_ hospital, not yours."

"Not anymore it isn't."

And Demyx laughed, completely ignoring her burning look of annoyance. She had no idea, really.

XXX

Xemnas preferred not to think of this as a "mistake," in all honesty. He would rather see it as a miscalculation.

Because "mistake" implied that he didn't gain anything from it, that it was entirely useless; while the other term said that, while some of the results were regrettable, at best, it still held value from other standpoints.

Saïx hadn't listened to him when he'd tried to explain that. Later, he would try again; he would explain that this last observation gave him the key information he would need to complete Saïx's surgery. But for now, he thought that he had a better chance of getting through to Zexion.

So, he stopped silently in front of the door to the recovery unit and raised his hand to knock – but stopped himself when he heard yelling inside. Within moments, the door had opened almost into his face, and there stood Marluxia, with a noticeably uncomfortable blonde woman restrained in his arms. Uncomfortable and… animated. Violent, really.

"You goddamned asshole, put me the _fuck_ down!" she yelled, writhing and kicking like a wild horse, but all to no avail. The smirk on Marluxia's face didn't move, and her repeated attempts to injure him did nothing. Stupid woman; she might have known.

"Marluxia. What is the problem?" he asked with one eyebrow cocked. It wasn't every day that he caught his subordinate in the act of forcible removal.

"The problem's that he's a fucking dick," muttered the woman from her restraints, before being strongly interrupted.

"This woman has infiltrated our asylum. She does not belong here, and so, must be removed," Marluxia replied with a look that the other man couldn't quite identify. Xemnas wondered for a moment exactly what he was smirking about.

"…Very well. Carry on," he ordered the other man calmly, ignoring the burst of giggles that came from the other room as the woman was dragged off, kicking and biting.

As he entered, he found one patient – the one with the blonde mullet, number 42… his name started with a D – almost doubled over with laughter by Zexion's hospital bed, and the doctor himself trying to repress a smile. The second thing he noticed was that the floor was entirely covered by flowers of every color.

He hated flowers. They gave him allergies.

"…Why does there seem to be the entire contents of a flower-shop on the floors of this room?" Xemnas asked, brow furrowed. He was quite sure that regulations would not allow so many. In either case, he would have to remedy that as soon as he returned to his office.

The patient stood back up suddenly upon hearing Xemnas's voice, neck straightening perfectly in a way that the doctor was sure meant something and couldn't recall. His whole body was tense, as if he was just barely controlling his fight or flee impulse. Fascinating.

"What are _you_ doing here?" the blonde asked. An emphasis on the subject in that question generally implied that the questioner did not approve of that particular person's presence. He wondered momentarily why the patient would not approve of his presence, before deciding that it did not matter.

"I am here to speak to Zexion. You do not approve."

"_Hell_ no I don't. You nearly got him killed!" His face was contorted, possibly in anger.

"…That is no way to speak to your doctor. Also, your protest is the topic which I am here to discuss." There was a silence afterwards, and the patient looked back and forth from one doctor to the other.

"…Well, I'll leave it up to Zexion. But if you end up making him angry I will kick you out of here. He's still an invalid – thanks to you – and he needs his bed-rest," he muttered darkly. Clearly this patient was not overly fond of him. It didn't bother him too much, however, as that was not such a great loss.

Zexion took a sidelong glance at Xemnas, shifting slightly in his hospital bed so that the IV lay more comfortably on his arm.

"…Let him speak." His words were quiet, but firm nonetheless, and the blonde appeared to understand.

"If you say so, Zexy," the boy said with a small smile.

Zexy? A strange name. He wondered when Zexion had gotten into the habit of allowing other people to nickname him.

It was certainly not a practice in which he himself would participate.

"So what do you have to say for yourself?" asked the little blonde, arms crossed and a glare on his face.

So he took his breath and began to make his case. He was good with words; he molded them and shaped them to do his bidding, one after the other like a wave until the other's mental defenses couldn't hold up.

Xemnas always won.

XXX

Riku was greeted by a rather over-enthusiastic hug as he stepped through the door, his attacker beaming like he'd just been inducted into some hall of fame. Or, more or less like he smiled every day. He was only barely off-balance, which he credited to many years of martial arts practice and many more years of being subject to Sora's eager bestowment of tackle-hugs.

"Hey babe," Riku responded to the sudden embrace. "What's up? Something happen?"

"Nah, just happy to see you."

The man couldn't help but grin kind of stupidly at that – he hadn't been gone for more than a couple of hours, and already Sora was Riku-deprived. It was… nice. Of course, he had missed the brunette, too, but the man in question knew that without any words. He was just good like that.

"So what were you off doing?" Sora asked innocently, finally tearing himself off his lover in favor of perching on a nearby stool. It didn't quite look like it would hold his weight, but it miraculously stayed standing.

"Got some information on Setzer. Got a hold of one of my old contacts – Luxord. He got me the guy's address and several backup hideaways. He's a good guy, really," he added, obviously referring to Luxord rather than Setzer.

Riku knew that the tone of wistfulness in his voice gave him away, but he didn't much care – he sometimes missed the people from the old days, like the Brit and Lexaeus, who never really had done anything technically wrong, but he still couldn't really associate with, just in case.

Sora gave him one look, and another smile, but a different one; this one held a fondness and exasperation that were adorable despite the fact that it was directed at him.

"That's great, really!" He paused. "But… you can go see them, you know. Nobody ever said you had to disassociate yourself from _everybody_ you knew in those days."

"I know…" he sighed, putting a hand to his head and looking down at the floor, then dropping casually into a chair near the door. "Just… I don't really want to risk going back, you know?"

Sora was over by him almost instantly, in the next chair, with an arm slung around his neck loosely.

"Yeah, I know. But… you shouldn't be so tough on yourself. You don't have to be perfect. Nobody has to be perfect."

Riku locked eyes with the other for a moment, and his smile grew.

"You are," he said with a grin, pulling the brunette into a tight embrace.

Sora laughed from where his face was buried into the other's shoulder, but didn't respond. Riku knew that his lover wasn't about to argue this with him; not when it would be so much better to just sit and enjoy the moment. They got precious few of them anymore.

XXX

Vexen was not particularly amused by the transformation of his desk drawers into fishbowls. Even less because they were the kind of blind deep-sea fish that had no color and more teeth than were precisely good for them. He had tried to ignore it for a while, but eventually, the little dancing lights from the hanging lanterns on their heads was just distracting enough for him to throw his hands up in despair of ever getting any work done.

Those little blinking lights were going to drive him _mad_.

XXX

Axel spent the rest of the day locked in the room he and Roxas shared, just in case. Vexen didn't know where he stayed, because he'd never technically had a room assigned to him; so staying hidden was the best course of action. But he shared a sneaky grin with Roxas as he left, knowing that despite the fact that he wasn't going anywhere, his work would be done in other ways. How he'd ever lived without Roxas was becoming more and more of a mystery to him.

He was entirely surprised by how well Roxas had been taking the whole kiss-thing, actually. He hadn't shown any active signs of interest either, but at the same time, the fact that he hadn't completely freaked out over his best friend being madly in love with him was a good sign.

And he knew that it was probably stupid, but it was only a matter of time before he'd try again. He'd tell himself no, that it was going to ruin his friendship with the boy, but he knew that eventually, the kid was gonna do something and he wouldn't be able to keep his hands off him.

He simultaneously looked forward to this day and didn't, for different reasons.

After about an hour with these musings, Axel found himself flipping through channels, frustrated. He wasn't particularly good with having nothing to do.

So he got up, threw on his jacket – the one he'd been hiding in the rafters so they wouldn't take it away from him – and proceeded to go door-to-door all the way down his hallway, taking the patients' informational files and switching them all. Just, of course, because he had nothing better to do – but it was something of a bonus that Vexen was in charge of most of this hall.

It was all worth it later when he heard a frustrated yell from a few doors down. Every bit of mischief's always better when you can see their reactions.

XXX

Marluxia wasted no time in dragging Larxene out quite unceremoniously. By about two hallways down, she had pretty much stopped struggling, figuring she'd save her strength for the opportune moment.

But suddenly, she was slammed down on the ground – more like dropped, really – and looked up just in time to see Marluxia locking the door to a rather small room. She didn't have any idea who it belonged to, nor did she particularly care.

"Larxene," he began after turning, without any kind of prelude, "I was watching your whole conversation with Demyx."

"Yeah? And?" she grumbled defensively, crossing her arms as she stood. It occurred to her that that must have been how he knew her name, because she sure as hell didn't give it to him.

"And I like you."

She blinked, then looked up at him with shock; that kind of declaration was strange enough from anyone, much less someone she had just met. Kind of creepy, actually.

"…What the fuck? You make these kinds of random declarations regularly?" She had been thrown too off-balance by his last remark to come up with a proper response.

"Only to the people who really strike me as interesting."

There was a quick silence.

"…Are you a dyke or something?" she asked suspiciously, almost but not quite taking a step back.

Marluxia blinked, then burst into the kind of deep laughter that made it quite obvious he was not a woman. She couldn't help but like his laugh. It was pretty goddamn sexy. Once he stopped, he fixed her with the kind of look that, for once, made her feel like the hunted rather than the hunter.

"Let me show you if I'm a dyke," he growled, and her cutting response was cut off by his lips on her mouth and his hand on her throat.

She kneed him in the balls and reversed their positions, pressing _him_ against the wall instead.

Because the fight was more fun than the win, but she wasn't ever the sort of girl who'd go down easy.

XXX

Demyx unceremoniously interrupted Axel's sleep at about five that evening, probably after he was done taking care of everybody else in the whole damn asylum. He was kind of a busybody, really, though the redhead would never admit how much he appreciated his bandmate's intervention in certain matters.

But not when he was asleep. Axel was not a morning person. Screw the fact that it wasn't morning, it still _felt_ like it.

"…Demyx, what are you doing here? I was _asleep_, moron. Learn to knock before you walk in on a man's room. Jeez, you're killing me," he muttered groggily from his bed, making several clumsy attempts to push himself up so as to better see his visitor.

"Well, _normal_ people aren't asleep at five in the evening. I just came to check up on you and Roxas." He paused. "All the better that Roxas isn't here right now," he added with a grin.

Axel groaned internally – he could just feel the questioning coming on. He wasn't up for this when he was half-asleep.

"So, how are things going between you and Roxas?" he asked cheerily. "Sorry I haven't really spoken to you much since you got in here."

"Not a problem," Axel responded. "How's Zexion?" He was a master at avoiding the question.

He'd heard about the incident – very vaguely – though pretty much all he knew was that the doctor had been injured, and that said doctor had been a friend of Demyx's. He felt it was proper – not to mention distracting – to enquire as to the man's health.

"Oh, Zexion's doing well. Recovering quickly. He woke up soon after his surgery, and is on his way to being out of there. But _you_," he interjected suddenly, "are avoiding the question. How are things with you and Roxas?"

Axel sighed. Idiot didn't know how to follow bait. He continued with his just-wakened, glaring silence, however; it was just easier that way.

"Something's up with you, isn't it?" the blonde asked with a knowing look. It was amazing how much energy the boy could emit without moving a muscle; every line of his face trembled with repressed excitement, the edges of his smile twitching bigger with each passing moment, moving towards a bigger and brighter smile.

The redhead finally managed to pull himself up off his bed, turning comfortably to meet the other's gaze.

"Eh, what's it to you?" Axel responded with a cocked eyebrow. He raised his arms for a lengthy stretch that started in his lower back and ended in his neck in an almost catlike way, watching his friend one-eyed for his response.

"What's it to me?" Demyx responded slowly, in disbelief. "Axel, I'm trying to help you. I can get you and Roxas together!" he breathed with vehemence.

"Well what if I don't need help?" the other threw out with an attempt at nonchalance, smirk almost invisible despite his amusement. "Out of the two of us, I think I'm more experienced at getting together with people than you."

"Yeah, but your relationships last approximately six hours until you wake up with a hangover and some whore's mouth on your dick, wondering how the fuck you managed to have sex in the missile silo without getting caught," the blond shot back, eyebrow cocked like a pistol, waiting for the other to make the next move.

Axel winced in silent response – but that little story was too similar to an incident that had _actually_ happened for him to be able to deny it properly.

Demyx took his friend's silence as a victory and continued.

"So, do you want to screw Roxas in missile silos and never see him again? Or do you want my help so you don't fuck up like that this time around?" he stated more than asked.

The other man laughed, running a quick hand through his hair, just to keep it manageable.

"Of course, man. I was just messin' with you anyway. Not like I have any idea what the hell I'm doing."

"Alright, then, this is what you're going to do," the blonde responded cheerily.

And Axel couldn't help but think that this kid was pretty goddamn amazing to have as a bandmate.

XXX

This time when Xemnas entered Saïx's room, he was watching television quite intently – not because the steady stream of nonsense emitting from the speakers was actually interesting, but rather with the purpose of pretending he hadn't heard the other man enter. Zexion had finally convinced him to at least hear the other man out, but that didn't mean that he looked forward to it with any particular relish.

"Saïx?" Xemnas asked from the doorway into the second room, probing almost – _almost_ – tentatively. A mark in his favor, in Saïx's mind – he seemed at least slightly uncomfortable after the disaster.

"Yes," the patient responded tonelessly from the couch, barely twitching a muscle even to change the channel.

"…Will you speak to me, then?" the doctor questioned with a growing confidence.

"No." Short and to the point. The scientist didn't seem to understand anything that wasn't perfectly blunt.

"…Will you listen, at least?"

"…Make it brief." Saïx watched the other from the corner of his eye, not wanting to make it obvious that he was paying attention but watching for the man's reactions just the same.

Xemnas glanced over at the television in what seemed like frustration – exasperation? Annoyance? – but then focused his gaze again on the inmate's stony face.

"I came here to… to apologize." Saïx's eyes shot up from the television set almost instantly at those words, locking onto Xemnas's curiously screwed-up face. That was one word he had never expected to hear out of that man's mouth. The doctor's expression was almost like disgust, but more like the countenance of a person who is attempting to swallow their pride and finding it much too large to digest.

The patient wondered for a moment whether he had gone and looked the word up especially for the occasion or if someone had taught it to him. Most likely the second. He lacked the imagination for the first.

"An apology." Saïx responded in a cautious disbelief.

"...Yes, please don't make me say it again."

"…What brought this on?" he asked, hiding his growing amusement under the deadpan expression he had mastered.

"…I made a miscalculation. I did not account for all variables."

"Perhaps it would serve you well to think of these things _beforehand_," the inmate spat back, both sets of eyes locking as he was suddenly consumed by rage. After everything that had happened, all Xemnas had to say was that he'd done his goddamn _math_ wrong.

"…It would. But my intentions were not malicious," he said, as if that redeemed him of everything. He truly didn't understand, it seemed. Saïx took a deep breath and closed his eyes to calm himself. He refused to speak words based only on anger.

"Intent is not the sole judgment of evil. You hurt Zexion. You made _me_ hurt Zexion. Either of us could have been killed!"

Xemnas did not respond, instead continuing on his earlier course.

"I intended to assist you by viewing your… changed state. My observations gave me key data for my pursuits."

"…And what pursuits might these be?" he asked uncaringly, not actually believing that the other had any valid answer.

"…The pursuit of your recovery, of course," he responded, blinking blankly as if that should have been clear from the start.

Saïx was momentarily taken aback by that statement: in light of everything, he had almost entirely forgotten about the upcoming surgery.

"I don't believe you," he shot back in reflex. "I do not see how any data you could possibly have collected would assist your treatment. And I may rescind my permission to give that treatment, now."

"…Why?"

"I don't trust you."

The silence following those words dragged out until it seemed like hours, emptiness stretching thin and taut. Saïx looked down at the floor, trying to hide his shame at those words and unable to meet the doctor's bemused stare. He clenched his fist in frustration – there was no reason for the shame, the doctor had not done anything at all to earn his trust. And yet… he felt like a traitor, now.

Finally, Xemnas broke the silence.

"Is that so," he responded quietly. His expression never changed, but Saïx knew the other man well enough by now to see his discomfort. "Then I suppose it is all to no avail."

"…Perhaps it all is. Maybe it's too early to say." He paused. "But I can't forgive you for what you made me do. Your actions turned me into a monster."

"I… am sorry."

There was a pause.

"I believe you." And for some reason, he did. For some completely inexplicable reason, Saïx believed Xemnas when he apologized. That somehow made things better, even a just a little bit.

XXX

"Riku, I just got a comm from Yuffie. Vincent's been shot; she's helping him back to headquarters now," the brunette said, as calmly as could be expected under the circumstances.

"What in hell? Vincent never takes a hit! He's a goddamn fast son-of-a-bitch," Riku spat, less out of anger than out of frustration. He hated it when one of the squad got hurt, really – Sora knew that, even though the other might not ever admit it – and so he'd forgive his lover's cursing for now.

"I know. Yuffie thinks it was Fuujin, but they weren't close enough to be sure."

"And Vincent?"

"He's not saying much. Not that you should expect him to by now."

"Damn. How bad's he hurt?"

"I dunno. I think he's walking, so not _too_ badly, but Vincent Valentine could walk through the apocalypse and not notice."

"Yeah. Get Aerith on the line, we're going to be needing her help as soon as those two idiots get here." Aerith was the squad's unofficial medic, though she was thankfully skilled in more than just making people comfortable while they died.

"Already done," he responded, shooting a worried look out the door. Sora didn't like it any more than Riku when the squad was hurt. But, this just gave them more reason to take Setzer down fast. At this point, it looked like a situation of "kill or be killed."

He hadn't mentioned this to Riku because his partner would definitely freak, but less than two hours ago Sora had received a quiet email in his inbox, quite politely requesting that they stop all lines of inquiry regarding Setzer before their whole squad got melted into the pavement.

But he trusted them to be able to take care of themselves. They had always been able to, before.

XXX

Vexen's day hadn't been fantastic, to say the very least, but he expected that it had hit rock bottom with the introduction of deep-sea fauna to his writing desk.

He had admitted himself to be entirely mistaken about thirty seconds prior, when he had entered his office to find a small television sitting quite innocently upon his desk, playing a video which, upon closer inspection, appeared to be gay porn. Within moments, the noises emanating from the speakers had escalated to almost a fever pitch, and the doctor felt all of the blood drain out of his face.

His day was only made better when he found that not only was it nailed to his desk, but every conceivable method of turning the device off or changing its intensity seemed to have been thought of and removed, as preventative measures.

He noted with frustration that this was the first day in his life he had ever contemplated suicide.

XXX

It was, of course, Demyx's bad luck to have the keys to almost every storage unit in the asylum, and worse that he needed a mop at that particular moment. He had never considered that a curse until just then, when he was faced with the frightening view of two naked, lightly blood-smeared bodies tangled with each other on the ground.

The first thought that occurred to him was that he never, under _any _circumstances wanted to see Larxene naked.

His second thought was that he was too young to die.

Two pairs of green eyes glared up at him furiously from the floor, and he backed up slowly with his hands up, not sure whether that was in apology or in a token defense.

"Um… I don't guess that saying 'I'm sorry' would cover it?" he inquired, voice strained with a tension born of fear for one's very existence. Somehow he had thought, when Marluxia dragged Larxene out, that she was actually going to be thrown out rather than screwed. Obviously he had been mistaken.

"No, it wouldn't," Marluxia snapped, pushing himself up to a halfway sitting position, in the process jostling the blonde out of his lap.

"Your ass will be _so full_ of _shit_ when I'm done with you that thinking of sex _ever again_ will make you cringe in terror," she responded as she too pulled herself up into a standing position.

Demyx took that opportunity to turn tail and run, pride be screwed. He most likely had a small time advantage, at least, because she was still naked and she'd probably put some clothes back on before chasing him down the asylum hallways.

_Probably_, _anyway, _he thought with a mixture of amusement and horror. One could never be sure, with Larxene.

XXX

As soon as Vincent had returned to headquarters, Riku took the opportunity to slip out under the cover of the general chaos: there was someone, now, whom he needed to see; and in doing so, he could kill two birds with one stone, as the saying went.

He moved quickly – an assured walk, not a run – down the alleyway behind their station in absolute silence, stealth born of years ruling the streets. But despite all of that, it took less than two minutes for Sora to figure out where he had gone and to catch up with him. Not that he had expected any less.

"Where are you off to, Riku?" he asked cheerfully, evidently ignoring the fact that he had just been left behind at the station.

"Sora, you really shouldn't come with me this time. I'm going to go talk to some people, but then I'm going to stake out their place. I don't want there, in case something happens," he explained with a frown.

Silence fell over the two like a frost as Sora's expression slowly fell from a smile to a scowl. He stopped where he was walking, and Riku, sensing that he had done something wrong, stopped as well, and turned to face him.

"…Sora? What's wrong?" he questioned tentatively.

"This is probably the third time in just a couple of weeks that you've decided you're going to go off on your own and play the hero, Riku. How many times is this going to happen? I mean, I earned my stupid badge just the same as you did." He took a deep breath. "I don't need you babying me, first of all. Second of all, you are an _idiot_ if you think that you can handle everything the world has to throw at you _alone_. What if you got shot and you were by yourself? How would you get back without help? Who watches your back?" he shot out, all in one breath. The glowering expression seemed entirely out of place on the brunette's normally cheery face, and Riku didn't like it. Not at all.

The man swallowed nervously. He didn't remember the last time Sora had been this angry at him, and it was making him distinctly uncomfortable. Because the worst part about Sora when he got self-righteous was that he tended to be, well, right.

"If you can't trust me to be your _partner_ – and that implies a mutual relationship, not just you trying to be my bodyguard – then I'm sure Cloud could arrange for us to switch. We're only half as effective split."

Riku sighed and looked away from his lover's forceful stare, unable to respond or make any kind of excuse. It was just… he hated for the brunette to be put in any kind of danger, really.

"I know… I know all this." He paused, then looked Sora back in the eye. "It's not that I don't trust you. I just… it's instinct." He didn't need to say that the idea of losing the other scared him more than anything. That was implicitly understood, and had been for as long as they could remember.

"Well, can you try to let me do these things, every once in a while?" the other responded, scowl thankfully beginning to break. He couldn't stay angry for long, could he?

"…I'll make sure you're with me," Riku finally responded, offering the blonde a tentative smile and letting out a breath he hadn't even known he'd been holding.

"Good. You'd better. Because I've got to watch your back, you know, same as you watch mine. I've saved your life too, you know."

"Yeah, I know."

And the miracle of their long friendship was that nothing more needed to be said between them.

XXX

Saïx was thoroughly surprised when Xemnas, instead of leaving to attend to undefined duties, asked to sit.

It was strange. He wouldn't have thought Xemnas _could_ sit – Demyx's description of the stick serving as a spine was curiously apt – but the discomfort with which the man performed the action seemed to indicate that he most likely did not do it very often.

"Why are you staying?" the inmate asked blankly, bemused.

"I do not have other duties to which I must attend." A pause. "Are you unhappy with this?"

"I am just curious. Normal social interaction is not a common thing for you to participate in," he explained.

"Also," Xemnas responded, "there is one more thing." Ah. So this was it. "I have been reading a book entitled _A Hundred Years of Solitude. _Have you read it?" Saïx smiled slowly in response – this must have been Xemnas's attempt at starting small talk. It was stilted and awkward, but at least it was an attempt.

But whatever he was about to say slid out of his mind completely when the door fairly flew open, evidently under Demyx's influence, and was slammed shut again within half an instant.

"Saïx! Xemnas! Sorry to interrupt, but I've got a _really_ scary naked lady on my tail and she's about to grind my guts up for her toast."

And just like that, their shaky moment of understanding was broken by Xemnas's quiet, deep-throated laughter.

"What?!" Demyx responded, halfway to panicked hysterics by now. "It's not funny! It's true!"

It occurred to Saïx in a flash of insight that not only did he believe the blonde, but that said occurrence would only make the list of the top five strangest things to have happened while he lived here.

The best part was that all of it had started happening when all the _sane_ people moved in.

That really said something about their definition of sanity.

XXX

XXX

Sorry this took so long! Exams are massive fail.

And you guys are so fantastic. I'm kind of blown away.

Speak to me?


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

XXX

Once the situation with Larxene had been acceptably remedied – a dialogue in which thankfully Saïx had not needed to participate – he found his room once again comfortably silent

Larxene was – thankfully – more than half-dressed when she burst into Saïx's room with her hair flying everywhere, tousled and damp from activities that Demyx didn't even want to _know_ about, much less contemplate.

"Little fucker, you think you can hide," she hissed venomously as she moved towards him at an alarming rate. He let out a little squeak as he ran to hide behind Saïx – who looked more than a little amused – and Xemnas, who looked about as interested as a wall might, though Demyx hoped that was for show.

"You have blood on you," the Superior informed her dispassionately, and she flinched even as Demyx gave a nervous giggle. He noticed – thankfully – that at least Marluxia seemed to be someplace else. Maybe getting fully dressed. He appreciated that little bit of thoughtfulness, not that Marluxia's naked body wasn't _nice_ or anything but…

His thoughts were interrupted by Larxene's shrill yell of "Fuck you!" – directed at the Superior, of course – and shrank a little behind the other two men. Smaller target and all that.

He realized with a wash of relief that Xemnas had stood, presumably to take on Larxene in all her half-naked glory. He towered over her by at least six inches, but it seemed like even more with the force of his personality behind it.

"You are also indecently exposed," he stated blandly, but Demyx thought he might – _might_ – have heard a hint of amusement in the other man's voice.

"Fuck you. I'm not after you. I'm after _that_ little shit," she jerked her head in Demyx's direction, "and you'd better just hand him over. I'll have his _balls_ for Christmas ornaments," the blonde growled.

"Attractive," Saïx murmured from his seat.

"Hell yes. I'd rather save my energy for killing _him_ but I'll fight to get to you if you won't move."

Xemnas smirked a little, to where Demyx almost couldn't see it.

"You'll do no such thing," he responded. "Guards!"

Within seconds, said security was bearing down on her from the doorway, and there was a gun pointing to her back.

"Marluxia," the doctor barked to a figure that hovered outside the door, "Would you be so kind as to escort this woman out?" Demyx wondered for a second if Xemnas knew that this was the person Larxene had been screwing. Probably not. After a moment's pause, he decided not to pursue the subject further.

After all, the sight of a struggling Larxene being fairly dragged away by an armed guard was more than enough to make up for the sheer terror she had inflicted on him. Well, maybe.

XXX

It was a cool enough evening outdoors, but in the stifling tension of Hollow Bastion's backstreets the heat seemed much more intense. Buildings – skyscrapers, tenements, dirt-covered offices – bore down heavily on a lone figure as he dragged himself through the streets, swaying as though very drunk. His steps were almost stuttering – there was no rhythm to his footfall, or logic to his movements. He was looking for something, maybe; but then, maybe he didn't even know what he was looking for himself.

He had probably dropped his gun somewhere, hundreds of feet back, thousands of feet back; he didn't really remember at all. All he knew was that the buildings were turning black on the edges of his vision, interrupted occasionally by flashes of a pale yellow that looked like it was spilled, or spattered or like something had died and that yellow, that yellow was the blood, only it was a light and people didn't _bleed_ light. Maybe you could make them. Maybe that was it, that was the secret. People bled light if you shot them right, if you cut them hard enough.

He blinked blearily as he arrived at a door – it looked familiar from somewhere, at least something in him was telling him that this was _good_ – and stood in front of it blankly for a moment, until it suddenly, magically, opened for him. There was this aura of goodness surrounding the person that the door opened for, and he remembered them vaguely when they smiled at him like that.

"Come in, Kadaj," the voice said from the body, and Kadaj smiled in return, childlike. These were the people who took care of him. These people always took care of him.

"So you took care of it?" said the voice, and the other nodded quickly, eager for something, eager for… the salt. He remembered that. He remembered it quite clearly.

"Took care of it but the man got away."

The voice's person frowned.

"I instructed you to kill him."

"He didn't die," Kadaj responded simply.

There was a silence.

"Very well. You'll get your salt. But be forewarned, there are punishments for failure; and if you do so one more time, you will be _removed_. Is that clear?"

_Yes_, thought Kadaj distantly from somewhere in his drug-addled mind. _Yes, that's clear. Maybe I should ask to not be on the salt next time I take on a hit._ But he wouldn't. And he didn't. The salt had too strong a sway over him – enough that even in a semi-lucid mind, he was unable to take complete control over himself.

He halfway hated it, but he loved it at the same time. He loved the rush he got – ah, there it was, someone handed it to him, practically forced him to take it – and loved the way it made him feel, for that first hour.

_Ah; yes_, he thought as he took his first breath. _Jenova. I missed you_.

XXX

Zexion was more than a little surprised that Demyx wasn't there when he finally got released from the infirmary where he had been held hostage for the past two days – but then, even he couldn't be everywhere at all times. It sometimes seemed like he could, though – and Zexion realized as he looked out into the empty hallway that he missed the blonde boy already.

He couldn't imagine what going back to his apartment again would be like, after all of this – it was probably filthy with dust anyway. He hated dust.

But at least, that gave him an opportunity to do something he'd been needing to do ever since the full moon. As much as he liked Demyx, he really needed to talk to Saïx without interference.

He walked slowly and laboriously towards the elevator, watched at his back by a worried nurse – he couldn't remember her name – who waited to catch him should he fall. He wouldn't fall; but he tolerated her presence amicably nonetheless. He wasn't about to get in the way of her doing her job, as long as she didn't get in the way of his.

They rode the elevator down in silence, and it was only moments before they had arrived at Saïx's door. Number thirty-six.

He knocked quickly enough, opening the door with a key on his belt – the door was always kept locked from the outside, now, unless a doctor was in there – and he entered to find Saïx mindlessly doing push-ups in the back corner of his room. He nodded to the nurse, indicating that she was to remain outside and leave the door unlocked. It didn't make much sense, as the patient was only dangerous on the full moon, but it was policy; and after the incident, Zexion was hardly going to argue.

"Hey," he grunted with a quick look towards the other man before returning to his exercises. "You're out." The statement was so obvious that the doctor didn't even feel the need to respond.

"…I wondered how you managed to stay strong," the slate-haired man mentioned casually, arms crossed.

"Not much else to do in this hellhole of a place," the other informed him, and with one great effort, he pushed himself all the way up into a crouching position.

"Hm," Zexion responded noncommittally. He wasn't entirely sure whether he wanted to encourage that sort of activity or not, but he let it slide for the moment.

"So, why are you here?" the other asked with a slight shift in his tonelessness that indicated a mild curiosity. He looked like he might have been about to ask something else, but didn't.

"If you're asking if I brought you anything, then no, not this time."

"I didn't expect you to after everything."

Zexion sighed and shifted his stance, wincing a little from the pull across his stomach. This man could be impossible sometimes.

"That's not going to change anything. It wasn't your fault. But," he continued, "that isn't why I'm here."

There was a pause. He didn't know quite why he had stopped talking, maybe he expected the other man to just know. Clearly he didn't, however, so the doctor cleared his throat and began again.

"It's about Xemnas."

Some kind of noncommittal noise was his only response, but he stood smoothly and stretched almost unnoticeably.

"He really does regret what he did, I think. Have you spoken to him yet?"

"…Yes and no. He… spoke with me, and I listened." He looked vaguely uncomfortable, unwilling to quite meet the other man's eyes – as soon as their gazes were about to cross, he would shy away.

"And your verdict?"

Saïx sighed, and it was such a strange thing for the other man to do that Zexion was momentarily taken aback.

"I'm not sure."

Relief flooded the doctor in a wave – Xemnas's explanation in the hospital room had convinced him of two things, at least. The first was that the incident had not been planned, and that the Superior just hadn't understood the possible consequences. The second, though it was entirely unintentional on that man's part, was that the doctor really did care about Saïx.

Usually this sort of thing was Demyx's job – but at this point, the blonde was still quite unwilling to forgive the Superior for his actions. The doctor felt responsible, in a way, for this patient; he had always been so alone for all the time that Zexion had known him. He wanted to help Saïx to not be alone anymore, if he could – and here, he saw that chance.

"So, you don't hate him then?" he asked with enough interest that he was sure Saïx saw right through him.

"Much to my surprise and irritation… no," the other responded grudgingly.

"Why is that," he asked out of politeness, though he suspected that he already knew. It had been him, after all, with some reticent assistance from Demyx, who had given Xemnas the advice that he had probably taken into account.

Saïx gave him a glowering look and crossed his arms, shaking his hair back into place.

"You know why. Because Xemnas decided that he needed to speak with me as a human being, to respect me, in order to keep me compliant."

"Or to keep you conversing with him. Have you considered that?"

"It's a possibility, just not likely." He paused. "Zexion, he wants to perform surgery on me. For my… transformations."

The silence this time was awkward and painful, as the doctor searched for something to say.

"Is that so," he finally responded, not having anything else to say. "Do you… Are you going to agree?"

"I have already," the other stated bluntly, looking nevertheless unsure as to the wisdom of his choice. Zexion thought that it was a valid doubt to have, but… just the same.

"So, then, you'd get out of this place if the operation was a success?" he asked thoughtfully, weighing the options. There weren't many; either he could stay here for possibly the rest of his life – they wouldn't let him out now under just doctor's recommendation, not with _two_ attacks – or he could let a man with critically impaired judgment perform an operation on his brain that could possibly alter his personality permanently, or even kill him.

Hell of a decision to make.

"Yeah, I'd get out of this fucking prison," he spat with as much vehemence as Zexion had ever heard from him. "It's the only thing that could tempt me to go through with this long-shot goddamn insanity." He shifted a little bit, arms held down by his sides in a way that didn't look awkward so much as it looked powerful.

"I see. So you'd be willing to risk everything to get out of here? Risk trusting him?"

"I'd be willing to do just about anything to get out of here."

"I see. Good luck, then." He paused, drawing breath slowly. "But Xemnas – he does really care about you, I think. You shouldn't belittle that."

Saïx recoiled as if slapped momentarily, then almost instantly turned his hard stare back to Zexion.

"What gives you the right to say that," he growled, eyes flashing. "I'm not belittling anything."

"You constantly refuse to acknowledge that you might be anything more than a test subject to him. It seems that understanding how he might see you as more than that and _also_ a subject is beyond your capacity. Or at least your will to realize," the doctor responded calmly with a calculating stare. He picked his words carefully, when he talked at all, and this was no exception.

"I'm not refusing to acknowledge anything. And I understand that possibility _perfectly_ well."

"Then give him a chance."

There was a silence, and Zexion smiled a little as he made his way out.

XXX

Axel grinned a little as he and Roxas walked away from the latest battle in his war with Vexen, trying not to seem conspicuous. They hadn't really done anything _wrong_, after all – they'd just turned all of his furniture upside-down. And nailed it to the ceiling.

It looked a hell of a lot better up there, anyway.

Roxas thought so too; so with a combination of Axel's height, Roxas's miraculous skill with carpentry, and a little bit of assistance from a disconcertingly strong security officer with an eyepatch – Xigbar was his name – there was a perfect reproduction of Vexen's office on the ceiling. Only mirror-imaged.

The redhead rather liked this one, himself – walking into the room made you more than a little dizzy, right after you caught yourself 'cause you thought you were falling.

"Fuck yes," he said in celebration as soon as they made it back to their room, gesticulating wildly, "Roxas, that was amazing. Thanks, man."

"Yeah. Anytime," the other said with a smile, "Vexen's kind of an ass, anyway, and it doesn't hurt anybody, right?"

Axel grinned and slapped his friend on the back, to which his friend responded with an astonished splutter. Maybe he'd hit him a little harder than he'd intended. Ah well.

"You got it." He paused, and looked around the room a little. It was more than a little disorganized, as Axel had been sleeping on the floor the whole time he'd been here and the nurses weren't a maid service for healthy people, after all.

"So," he began just to quell the silence, "What the hell did you do 'round here before I answered your prayers?" he asked cheekily, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe.

"Ah, nothing really," responded the blonde with a shrug. "There's not much to do. This place isn't for people like you and me, Axel."

Axel's ears perked a little at that.

"Yeah? Then why are you here?"

Roxas threw him a glare that was obviously deriding his stupidity, and Axel threw his hands up defensively.

"What?! No seriously. I mean I know you don't remember and all that shit, but… you could just walk out at any time, couldn't you?" he asked with maybe a little more excitement than he had intended to let show at the moment.

"Yeah, I guess I could. But I've got no-place to go, and they'll take care of me here. Plus, they can help me get my memory back."

There was a silence. They looked at each other quietly, the redhead debating internally whether or not he should say this or not. It was kind of Demyx's advice, and the blonde gave good advice whatever else he might do, but still…

"Well, um…" Axel began awkwardly, tentatively. "You could stay with me," he offered quietly.

"What?" Roxas blinked slowly, once, twice – _damn_ his eyes were big – and sat down with a muffled creak onto his box-spring bed.

"Seriously. I've got a place. Haven't got a job right now," he added with a chuckle, "but that could be fixed pretty quick. I'm pretty damn good with cars." He paused. "You could come live with me," he repeated again, out of nerves or stupidity or he didn't even know what. But one thing was for sure, he was scared and he wasn't even sure why the hell he would be.

"…Would you really let me do that?" Roxas responded with a little reassuring smile.

Axel met his smile with an even bigger one, and a wide gesture of excitement.

"_Fuck_ yes. It would be amazing." He paused for a minute, and his expression sobered a little. "But would you come stay with me? I mean, you know..." He scratched his head awkwardly. "With everything. With me being, and you…" The words somehow just wouldn't come out, but the blonde knew what he meant. He laughed a little, and put his hand on the bed behind him to prop him up.

"Don't be stupid. Of course I'd stay."

_Damn_ it was good to hear that.

XXX

There were always times when being in an officer's uniform was definitely a benefit, Riku mused as he walked down the white hallway of the Hollow Bastion Correctional Facility, arms swinging comfortably. They let you in anywhere without a question.

He saw from a distance that the split in the hallway that the attendant had talked about was coming up, and he glanced quickly to his side. Sora was trotting along beside him quite cheerily, as usual – he had volunteered to go talk to Roxas while Riku dealt with the doctor who had been on that tape. Zexion was his name, according to Kairi.

They parted ways with a wave as the hallway split – they didn't need to talk, all instructions had been given out beforehand and they could speak without words, now - Riku taking the left and the other taking the right, where he pressed the button for the elevator that would take him up to Roxas's room.

Just as the brunette passed out of sight, Riku was surprised to find himself automatically dodging another body in the hallway after almost having collided with it only moments before.

"Oh, I'm so sorry…" he said out of instinct. As he did a double-take, it dawned on him that this was probably the man he was looking for. He'd just shut the door to room number 36 – the room of the patient in question – and he had a little half-smile that almost made Riku wonder what he'd been up to. But no time for that just now.

"Are you the doctor who was attacked here a few nights ago?" he asked bluntly without preamble – the suddenness of the man's appearance had left him with little time to think, and this once he couldn't come up with something better to say.

"I am," the doctor responded, crossing his arms and eyeing the cop suspiciously. He didn't look particularly compliant. It was time to turn on the charm.

"Sorry, doctor – Zexion? May I call you that? – I was just so surprised by finding you here that for a moment, my tact left me. I apologize. I'm Riku of the Hollow Bastion Police Corps, and I had just been on my way to meet you," he said with his most winning smile.

"Had you really," he responded. He didn't seem impressed. He was probably one of those people who just didn't much like cops.

"Yes, in fact. Not that I'm not pleased to make your acquaintance, but there was something I needed to discuss with you. Before you ask," he added, "no you're not in any kind of trouble."

The doctor raised his only visible eyebrow.

"Then who is?"

"I'll get to that."

"You could get to it now," he suggested with a tone in his voice that indicated that he would prefer a quick end to the conversation. No sense in beating around the bush, then.

"Look, Zexion. We saw you get attacked in that room two days ago through a camera system. We want to press criminal charges on your boss, for criminal neglect and mistreatment of his patients." He paused, but the doctor's expression did not change. "We need your testimony for the case to go through. Kairi said that you told her he was withholding the patient's medicines. Is that true?"

There was another silence.

"Oh. You're Kairi's friend. I should have known," the doctor finally responded, and he relaxed, at least a little. "Alright, come back to my office. We'll talk."

It wasn't much further down the hallway before they reached his office. Once inside, Zexion sat in the chair behind his desk, motioning for Riku to do the same on the other side.

"So my answer to your question is this; yes, medicines were withheld from a patient who needed them. And that patient then attacked me."

"Will you testify against this Xemnas, then?" the cop asked hopefully. He sensed a 'but' coming, though – and he was good with people. He could tell.

"No, I will not."

Riku sighed. He had been afraid of that.

"Please don't interfere with the administration of justice. It's not pretty for us or for you."

"You haven't heard the rest of the story." The doctor laced his fingers together, elbows on his desk, and set his chin on them thoughtfully.

"I'm listening," the other responded.

"He was trying another method for Saïx's treatment. He was not aware of the dangerous effects that the patient might have when un-medicated, and did not take the precautions necessary," he stated quietly, looking Riku directly in the eyes.

"…And the fact that it led to your grave injury was nothing more than a coincidence. That slash looked like it could have killed you," he stated incredulously, not wanting to believe that this man would actually say this. Dammit, this had been _it_, this had been his key to getting that man under lock and key.

"It could have. But, it was a simple mistake, and I did not. I will not testify that the Superior is a criminal." Every word was as clear as if he'd written it, showing his clear intent through bold, black strokes.

There was no mistaking it – although Riku had a suspicion that he wasn't getting the entire story, this man wouldn't be his evidence. He felt his expression harden, though he did his best not to let it show – he couldn't stand people that stood in the way of the law. They were almost as bad as the criminals themselves.

"Alright, then," he said as he stood slowly from his chair, "But please don't think that you've heard the last of this," he said as he shot Zexion a look from the corner of his eye that showed just how deadly serious he was. "You and I will see each other, again, and someday that man will be behind bars, whether that's with your help or not."

And with that he left, wishing that he lived in a world where wrong couldn't so easily win over right.

XXX

"What? Kickin' me out? No fuckin' way," Axel said with a half-laugh that wasn't quite disbelieving. He'd just been waiting for that to come.

"You don't have the right to kick out a patient!" added Roxas, arms crossed stubbornly in a way that made him look just adorable, really.

"Firstly, that boy is not a patient," Vexen said in that voice of his that just _dripped_ superiority. "Secondly, I think that you'll find that I do, in fact, have the right to remove any person of whom I do not approve."

"Grow a sense of humor, crazy bastard," Axel replied good-naturedly. "You're not even any fun."

"I stopped caring about entertaining people like you when I graduated preschool. I now have a PhD and have learned how not to care much more effectively," the doctor responded dryly. "Now leave before I have to request a court order banning you from the premises."

Axel grinned.

"Okay, fine. But Roxy's coming with me."

Roxas blinked. This was the first he'd heard of these plans. And that made sense, because he'd made them up on the spot.

"…_You_ do not have the authority to dismiss a patient," Vexen replied icily.

"Ah, but Roxy's not really a patient, is he? He's in here because he wants to be. Self-admitted, am I right?" he responded with a smirk.

There was a silence, and Axel took that as permission to continue.

"Then, according to that, he can leave whenever he damn well wants. Isn't that right, Roxy?"

"…Yes, actually, Axel is right. I can leave whenever I want," Roxas said blankly – and suddenly, then, his expression changed and it looked like it finally dawned on him that he really _could_ and that he'd have a place to go, also.

"Then let's go," came Axel's reply, and he slung an arm around Roxas's shoulders enthusiastically.

"Alright."

Axel's grin right then could have broken windows with its sheer intensity, he was sure of it. He had won, dammit, finally he'd won.

But his victory celebration was interrupted by a small voice coming from the doorway of the room they were in.

"Um, sorry about all this, but it looks like Roxas won't be leaving with you yet," said a small brunette in a cop uniform from where he stood in the doorway. He looked like he might have been standing there for a while. Tch. Eavesdroppers.

"And why the hell not?" Axel asked, not quite annoyed by this guy's interference but only because he was in such a spectacular mood anyway.

"Because, well, he needs to come with me. I'm Sora, by the way. And you're Axel, I've gathered, and Roxas and I know each other." He gave the blonde a wide smile that the redhead couldn't help but like, despite the fact that the other man was cutting in on his victory. Seemed like a good kid.

"Yeah, he was one of the cops who picked me up off the street," Roxas offered amicably, returning the smile with considerably less enthusiasm but just as much honesty. The two were almost scarily alike, really.

"Oh, was he now? He deserves special treatment, then. Thanks for bringing Roxas back to me, man," he said with a grin and an emphasizing gesture with the arm that wasn't around the boy. The redhead could tell that the kid could tell what was going on with him'n Roxas just by seeing how he glanced from one to the other curiously, like he was waiting for something to happen. Smart, that one.

"Um, no problem. But I kind of need to borrow him for a while. I'm sorry about that, and everything, but… I think he has some kind of connection to the case my partner and I have been working on, and we need to take him to a location to see if he can remember anything about it," Sora said tentatively, looking back and forth from Axel to Roxas.

"So, you mean, you might have found something else connected to me? Do you think it'll help me remember?" the blonde said with excitement.

"Yeah, maybe. We can help each other. It all works out, right?"

But something in Axel was flashing warning signs. They were huge and in neon and _really_ hard to miss. He wasn't about to ignore them, either.

"Uh, aren't we missing something here?" he said uncomfortably, "You're a cop, so you deal with criminals. No news there. But Roxy here can help you with one of your cases, you say. That means Roxy's dealing with criminals somehow." He paused. "You're putting him in danger, aren't you?"

Sora frowned, and Vexen, realizing when he wasn't necessary, slid quietly through the door behind him.

"Not excessive danger. And we'd both be there to protect him. I promise nothing's going to happen to him," he said, almost like he was asking for permission.

"Uh, no," he responded resolutely, holding Roxas tighter and glaring at the policeman in front of him. "No way in hell I'm going to let my Roxas into some cop's gang war issue. Settle it yourselves."

"_Your_ Roxas?" protested said blonde from where he was wriggling in Axel's too-tight grip.

"It's not going to be dangerous for him, I promise. He might have had a connection with these people. If he can remember, he can testify and get us a warrant. We don't actually _have _anything on this guy yet, but we know it's him." He paused. "And if you're his friend," that word was said with an amused undertone that Axel wasn't sure if he appreciated or not, "then you'll want him to have his memories back. Right?"

"Right. But not if it means putting his life in danger, thanks all the same."

"Axel," Roxas protested again, but more quietly this time. "Aren't you even going to bother asking my opinion?"

"Sorry, no. Free will does stupid things to people sometimes," the redhead responded with a small grin, knowing he'd already lost. He always lost to Roxas – but he didn't mind. It was the best damn kind of losing there was.

"Yeah, well, I want to go, and I don't think it's retarded. If Sora says I'm going to be safe, then I'm going to be safe. That gives you some time, too, to figure out the whole apartment thing. I'm fairly sure that Demyx has mentioned that you were roommates with that Larxene woman at one point," he mentioned with a raised eyebrow, "and I'm fairly certain she wouldn't appreciate having another roommate dumped on her without advance notice."

There was a pause as Axel attempted to decide whether he would keep arguing this or if he'd just let it drop. After another moment, he decided to just let it drop, sighing, resigned, and putting a hand to his head dramatically.

"Man, Roxas, you give me a headache sometimes. Fine, go off, do your thing, I'm gonna be waitin' for you right here."

Roxas's eyebrow raised even higher at that.

"In this building? You're banned."

"On the front steps, then. At any rate I'll find you when you're done, and you'd better damn well not get yourself killed or hurt or anything or else I'm going to be doing some fucking _maiming_, got it memorized?"

"Yeah, clear. And stop saying that, you sound _retarded_," came Roxas's amicable reply.

"Yeah, love you too," he responded sarcastically before releasing the blonde and giving him a little shove in Sora's direction. "Go on then, you've got him. Have fun. Blow shit up."

"Will do," responded Roxas cheerily, almost but not-quite covering Sora's pained noise.

"Please don't," the brunette interjected nervously, "we have enough collateral damage without your help."

_Tough shit_, thought Axel amusedly, _you wanted Roxas and now you've got him. What he does on his own time is _his_ business._

And he couldn't help but think that it might all be worth it just for that one look on the cop's face. Priceless.

XXX

Kadaj didn't like it when the man in the coat came again. The first time he came he brought salt, the second time he kicked the other man out. Kadaj didn't like being kicked out. He liked this place. It was warm.

"Kadaj, I need you to kill this person for me." The other man showed him a picture; this one was a girl with short, boyish dark hair. "Her name is Yuffie Kisaragi, and she is the partner of the man you were supposed to kill yesterday. If you can get Valentine also, then please do so."

"Yeah. Kill Kisaragi. I understand," he responded in a daze.

"And rest assured that if you fail again, you will die."

That would be less than pleasant, really – no more salt, no more swords or guns or people talking at him. He rather liked those people. They gave him things.

"I will not fail," he responded, looking straight to the other side of his boss's head, as if it weren't even there. A curious sensation, that. Not that Setzer's head particularly needed to be looked at. It wasn't much, really.

"See that you don't," he responded, gesturing to the guards to take him outside, where they practically dropped him on the bottom step. He looked around him carefully, scouting out the best way to go – he knew where she walked home every day, he knew where she worked, he knew everything about all of them. The drugs were giving him a high, and he felt powerful. He wanted to show them his power, show all of them. He'd show Sephiroth.

He took off in that direction, walking briskly enough, but he found after a moment that he was weighted down by something – several somethings, maybe – in his hands. After looking down, he discovered that in his right was a pistol, and in his left, a box. A curious little box, with little hinges and clasps to close it. Maybe he'd remember what to do with it when the time came.

XXX

Riku returned to the station in less than a stellar mood, despite the fact that his partner had acquired Roxas without difficulty, which had been one-half of his intent. The fact that he couldn't finally _catch_ that bastard was grating on him more than he'd like to admit. He did not allow people to escape the law.

When he stepped inside, Sora and the blonde kid close behind him, Vincent was sitting perfectly still on one of the desks, being fussed over by a displeased Aerith.

"Yes, you have to get your bandages changed every couple of hours when the wound is so fresh. Please don't forget when you're at home, I'm not going to be there to take care of you," she said worriedly as she wrapped a length of bandage around the gunshot wound in his arm. "I'm not going to make you go to the hospital because I know you hate them, but you _have_ to take it easy, I mean it."

Vincent didn't respond, humoring her with a tiny smile and his silence. He knew about her mothering instincts, and had grown used to them by now.

"Yeah, Vince, you'd better not do anything stupid. I need my partner back," Yuffie interjected from her desk, where she was sitting, eyes glued to the screen and typing fast.

"I'm fine," he informed her quietly as he flexed his newly-bandaged arm to test it out.

"Hey Vincent, glad to hear you're doing well," Riku interrupted as smoothly as he could manage. "So what happened out there? Has Cloud heard?"

"Cloud's been out of the office all day, and part of yesterday," Aerith stated softly as she packed up her case. "He's been doing other work. There was a murder on the south side that he's investigating – unrelated to this case – and he might not be back for another day or two, even."

Riku shot her a glance, and then one at Sora and their eyes met.

"So, our leader's out and Vincent gets shot by a criminal group at the same time. Doesn't sound like a coincidence."

Sora cleared his throat beside him, and the poor kid they'd brought looked bewildered and a little bit frightened. Maybe they shouldn't have brought him here, first.

"Um, also, there was a threatening letter received earlier today, from Setzer's group." He paused, as everybody gave him incredulous looks. He shouldn't be hiding that sort of information, really. "Hey, don't look at me like that!" he protested. "I just wanted to wait 'till we were all together so we could get something done about it instead of worrying pointlessly."

"Good call," said Vincent from where he was now standing, arms crossed, at the back of the room. "What did it say?"

"The usual. Stop looking for us or we'll kill you all."

"I see. Yuffie," he said firmly, "Go home with Aerith tonight."

That was smart, Riku thought to himself – Aerith couldn't really defend herself very well, and Vincent wasn't much use as a shot right now, with his gun-arm damaged. So sending them home together would make sure neither was alone, and that their medic wasn't hurt in the crossfire.

"We can take you home, Vincent, if you'd like," Sora offered from beside him. Everyone there knew that he wouldn't accept, but he had to offer anyway.

"No. I'm fine," he reiterated sharply. "But now would be a good time to leave, before the sun sets." His expression never changed when he spoke – and Riku admired that trait of his, but at the same time it was kind of unnerving.

"Alright," Riku agreed. "Sora and I are staking out Setzer's place tonight, though, and Roxas is going to help us. I'm sure you've all heard about the possible connection between him and the group we're hunting."

There was a collective nod from the group, and nobody stated any dissent – but the mood in the room was tense. They all knew how dangerous it could be for anyone, especially some untrained kid. But if the kid could get his memories back, then he could help them track down not only Setzer, but the other higher-ups. There had been nothing, so far, that told them the names of these people, and that made it difficult to track them down, at best.

"Alright, be careful," said Aerith in parting, with a small wave as she walked towards the door. Yuffie stood up and stretched, nodded to Vincent – who gave a tiny smile back, it was the strangest thing – and followed her friend out the door.

"Aerith and I will probably both stay at my apartment for a while, 'kay?" the girl said as she walked through. "So in case you need to get in contact with us, you'll know where we are."

"Yeah, got it. Thanks Yuffie," Sora responded comfortably, watching them walk away. As soon as they could no longer be seen, Vincent gave a nod and was off through the back door like a flash. Damn that man was fast.

"So, what in the hell is going on?" asked Roxas, suddenly reminding Riku of his presence in the room. He looked almost sheet white, and Sora put a hand on his shoulder comfortingly.

"Oh, Roxas. Sorry about that." Damn. He slapped himself mentally for letting the kid get anywhere near this – now he was terrified. But one thing he'd found was that the criminals never expected the cops just to _walk_ right up to their hideout, so as long as you stayed inconspicuous, you were generally safe from across the street. He could only hope that Roxas's memories would be triggered just by seeing the outside of the place, because there was no way in hell they were getting in.

"You'd better damn well be sorry," responded Roxas frantically. "There's somebody out there _shooting_ you guys – like, just for the fun of it or something – and you're about to _bring_ me to these people?! What the hell kind of show are you running here?"

"The kind that's going to keep you safe but needs your help anyway," Sora told the blonde, huge eyes pleading. "We need you to help us or else we can't _get_ this guy. We can't stop these things." He paused. "I know it's kind of a long shot, but will you come with us?"

Roxas paused, pondering – and Riku was glad for the millionth time that Sora was his partner. Because even if he had always been the faster, and the stronger – Sora was so much better at things like this. Making people comfortable around him was just one of his many talents.

But their conversation was interrupted suddenly by a loud noise from over the radio, like it had been dropped, and within moments Aerith's voice could be heard from the device.

"Oh my god," she said frantically, voice trembling, "Yuffie's been shot. She's hurt. Really hurt." Her voice was cut off by a shot from the radio – a gunshot, one then another in rapid succession. "And I think she's shot the one who did it. But, I don't, oh my god… She's bleeding. I can't take care of this. Please, we're not far from the station but we're on a back-road, I can't carry her." The radio went silent, and Riku had his transceiver up to his mouth in half a second.

"We'll be there. Vincent's probably on his way too, he'll have heard through the comm. Aerith, just keep her fucking _alive_ until we get there." He turned the radio off quickly. "Roxas. You, stay _here_. Stay in the back holding cells, you can lock yourself in just by shutting the door and it's bulletproof. Sora, you're with me," he ordered grimly.

"You don't have to tell me."

And they were off, running through the door as quickly as either could manage, hoping beyond hope that they could find the girls in time to save their teammate.

They all knew the feeling of losing a teammate – Zack had been a good guy, in the wrong place at the wrong time. None of them wanted to repeat the experience.

XXX

XXX

I am so sorry for the long wait... the longest wait between chapters before this point was what, four days? And now two weeks? I apologize profusely... I'd explain why, but I'm sure all you care about is that it's finally done and here XD And it's an extra-long chapter to make up for it.

Please, tell me what you think... as I'm sure you can already tell, the story's kind of changing in tone from here on out, and it won't be many more chapters before it's finished.

Speak to me?


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

XXX

Riku's feet slipped only a little on the damp concrete as he raced towards Yuffie's house, hoping and praying that he would be able to find her on her route before she… well, he didn't really want to think about it. Everything was going to be alright, dammit.

He realized suddenly that he had his gun out, and so did Sora – all the better, really, because chances were high that someone else was hiding somewhere. Maybe not, because Aerith was still alive – at least he hoped; please god, let Aerith still be alive – but it was always better to be prepared.

He saw Aerith's tiny frame come into view, shakily, and he breathed in relief when he saw that she was still on her knees, still alive – though she was covered with blood. Everything was covered with blood – the girl beside her, the ground, everything. A high pitched scream of terror and pain suddenly split the twilight, and Riku shivered despite himself. He knew Yuffie well enough to know that that wasn't her scream. Her attacker, then.

At least she shot the goddamn bastard.

As he and Sora drew closer, he saw Yuffie's mouth move – she was still alive, thank god, thank fucking god – and she was smiling, maybe she was alright, maybe she was ok and everything would be fine and…

He noticed a body on the other side of the street – there, it moved, it was practically _writhing_ in pain – before moving towards Yuffie as quickly as he could manage. The trail of blood led for several feet – most likely Aerith had tried to drag her friend, tried to move her even just a little bit faster towards something, towards a hospital, towards…

His first thought was the asylum, there were doctors on call there, maybe not _surgeons_ but if Sora called while he ran her there – it wasn't far, it would be faster than an ambulance right now – and maybe they could save her life if they were fast enough. If he was fast enough.

"Sora, call the asylum. We're taking Yuffie there. Call the hospital, too, and tell them what's going on."

"But Riku, maybe we should wait for the…"

"We don't have _time_ to wait for the ambulance," he snapped, eyes hard with adrenaline and terror. "Yuffie's going to die. I'm not going to let her die, I'm not going to let any of you die like Zack died. Not on _my_ watch."

Sora didn't respond, but nodded mutely as he got out his cell – thankfully at least one of them carried one on duty. He picked Yuffie up in a careful, quick motion, but he heard her moan a little, voice tiny with exhaustion, and she smiled at him a little, but he wouldn't look at her.

"Aerith, stay with Sora. I'm heading to the hospital. Make sure that fucking _killer_ isn't allowed to escape," he almost yelled, energy fueled by the pit of terror that had lodged itself in his throat and wouldn't move. He took off running just as he heard her voice from behind him – but he was gone too quickly to hear what she said.

His uniform was ruined the moment he picked her up – there was too much blood; it had hit her stomach and there was one on her leg, maybe on an artery, and she was bleeding so much that he wondered how much a person could bleed before they died. She wasn't speaking, but he could hear her breathe as he ran.

"Yuffie," he said frantically, hoping, "Stay with me, alright? Just listen to me. Are you still there?"

She remained silent, but her eyes locked with his and she gave him a small smile. Yuffie didn't ever not talk.

"Talk to me, ok? Just say something."

"…Where's Vincent?" she responded hoarsely as the wind sped past his face.

"Vincent's coming. He's probably on his way right now. He'll see you in the hospital."

"…Can you call?" she asked. There weren't tears in her eyes. Yuffie wasn't the sort to cry. There _weren't_, dammit – crying would mean she was losing hope, and Yuffie _never_ lost hope.

"I can, but he'll be here soon enough. Why don't you just wait?" he suggested with what he hoped was a smile, but probably didn't turn out that way.

There it was – the asylum. It was so close, just two minutes.

"I don't have time to wait. Riku…" she said, choking on a half laugh at nothing at all, "I'm gonna die. I've lost so much blood…" The blood was dripping behind them like a trail. Vincent would find them if anyone could ever find them.

"You're not going to die. I'll call him as soon as I've put you down, I can't reach the comm. – and we'll be at the hospital soon."

"Please, call him now. I might not _last_ another five minutes." Her voice was growing smaller, and her eyes were closing – he put another burst of energy into his running. There was someone waiting for him there, with a bed for her.

"No! I'm not going to leave you to die, Yuffie."

"I'm dead already. Call him, please. I want to see him before I die," she pleaded with him, eyes dull and almost shut.

Riku didn't respond. Within thirty seconds, he had her to the door – and he looked down to her face – she had passed out, eyes closed and body slack. He put her down on the bed that the doctor had brought to the doorway specifically for the purpose – thank god for Sora – and then took the comm. off of his belt.

"Vincent? It's Riku. Yuffie and I are at the asylum. She wants you."

"I spoke to Sora. I'm almost there. How is she?" crackled the man's deep voice from over the device.

Riku cringed a little – he had made it all the way to where Sora and Aerith were from wherever he was, and now back to the asylum. That detour might have cost Vincent a few precious minutes and… No. He wasn't going to think like that.

"She's alive, but she needs you."

The doctor cleared his throat from where he was inspecting the girl – he was so calm as he put his hand to her throat, dammit he ought to be _moving _faster, where was his initiative? What the hell kind of place were they running here?

"I think… in reality, that you have come too late," the doctor said, long blonde hair moving as he shook his head.

"What? Fuck no, you're moving to slow," Riku snarled as he tore over to her and put his own hand on her vein – there was still a faint pulse. She was alive.

"No, sir, she's dead."

"She is _not_ dead." He valiantly fought tears as they threatened to come, but he didn't show it – instead, he took his hand and struck her on the chest, once, twice – that sometimes helped people who were on the verge of dying, made their hearts pound stronger.

"She's lost too much blood. I'm sorry, but she's…"

"She's _not_," he yelled at the doctor disbelievingly, almost screaming in his fierceness. Something in him told him that he probably wasn't being fair, that maybe it wasn't the doctor's fault – but of course it was, if Riku could feel the pulse why couldn't the goddamn _doctor_, he had a degree for this sort of thing – and he ignored the little voice, and eventually it stopped speaking.

He didn't notice the presence behind him until Vincent had caught his hand in midair, before one more strike, one last strike – she was breathing, he could _see_ it, why was everybody so eager to give _up_?

"She's gone, Riku," Vincent said quietly, with this tinge of pain in his voice that made Riku's chest hurt.

"She's _not!_ I'm not going to let her die, I'm not going to let _anyone_ die!" Riku screamed at the stoic man in front of him. "How can you just stand there and do nothing?! I can see her breathing! She's _alive_. I thought you _cared_ about her!"

In one movement he wrenched his hand out of Vincent's grip, and he hit her again, and again, hoping to re-start her heart, her vital functions, her everything – and Vincent just stood there with the blonde doctor, watching him. He realized then what a sad picture he must make – all covered in someone else's blood and face dripping with what _weren't_ tears and hitting this girl and trying to pray her back to life when there was nothing on god's earth that could be done for her anymore.

He paused in the middle of another halfhearted attempt to beat life back into her, hand paused awkwardly in the air as he realized that, oh god, he had failed _again_ – she had died and Zack had died and he couldn't do a single goddamn thing about it. His arm was trembling unreservedly now, and Vincent watched him, watched Yuffie – his partner, his more than partner – but he wouldn't move to touch her. Not with Riku there.

He stood there stoically, unwilling or unable to move towards the girl whose vibrancy could only by dimmed by the final curtain of her life closing. But he knew what the dark-haired man was thinking; his thoughts were moving towards his former love, his Lucrecia, who also, now, was dead despite him. Riku's mind spun in fifteen different directions, and he moved away – tentatively, awkwardly – from her bloodstained corpse, to allow Vincent at least these last moments with her whom he had loved in life.

The sun had finally set, and he was glad – because the harsh electric light gave him an excuse to raise his bloodied hand to shield his eyes, so that no-one would see him fighting tears.

Fifteen minutes later, he was alone on the front steps again. They'd taken her away, put a cloth over her so that nobody could see her anymore, closed her eyes so that her sightless pupils didn't stare out onto the world. He stumbled forward a little, trying to move, but eventually he realized that he couldn't, and dropped down to sit on the stairs in a daze. It was there that Sora finally found him.

"I heard. Vincent sent a comm. Riku… I'm sorry, it's not your fault. We cared for her too." He paused. "Riku, do you hear me?" he asked worriedly, crouching down in front of the other man and waving a hand in front of his eyes.

"Mm…" Riku responded blankly, stare dull on the marble step.

"Riku, we have to get up and moving. There are things that need to be done. We have the assassin back at headquarters, and you need to question him. There's no-one else right now," he pleaded. "I'm no good at that stuff."

His partner just grunted from his seat on the stairway – his mind was filled with other things, with thoughts and accusations – it's your fault Riku, you didn't do enough, if you had run faster, if you hadn't let them go out alone, what the _hell_ were you thinking you little piece of shit – and there wasn't enough room for Sora's words to reach him. Sora gave a little sigh – of frustration? No, more like resignation – and put Riku's arm over his shoulder, then hoisted him up.

"Up we go, Riku," he said with an attempt at cheer, "We'll get you back to headquarters, no problem."

Riku was almost torn by a feeling that being cheerful right then was disrespectful – but he knew that Sora was just worried about him. He knew it was strange that he wasn't answering, but still those thoughts were floating in his mind and he just couldn't bring himself to open his mouth, bring himself to speak to his longtime lover and best friend. He allowed himself to be taken away, slowly, putting one foot in front of the other as much as he could, and letting his weight rest on Sora when he couldn't manage it.

He couldn't remember a time when he had ever been more immensely grateful for Sora than he was in that moment.

XXX

Axel was whistling as he walked out of the asylum a few hours after Roxas left. It wasn't exactly a characteristic thing for him to do, by any means, but he was just so goddamn _happy_ that he didn't really care. Happy enough, even, that the sudden appearance of Larxene by the doorway didn't dim his mood any.

"Will you shut the fuck up?" she asked – ordered, really – as she shifted her weight and crossed her arms.

"Larxene! To what do I owe the pleasure?" he asked with a smirk and an exaggerated bow. "I had been under the impression that you were in jail for some shit or other. Never did tell me what you did."

"Yeah, well, I'm out now, and that's really all that's important."

"Well, I'd say the probably not-legal way you escaped is kinda important," he said with a raised eyebrow, "because you're kinda living with me and shit and I don't really want to be arrested as an accomplice to rape or robbery or whatever the hell else you did."

"You're not gonna be. Look, asshole, I'm not living with you anymore."

Axel blanched at those words – they had definitely been living together the last time they had spoken.

"Wait, what in _hell_ is going on? I left my apartment with you, what did you do?!" he said amusedly, unable to bring himself to be really angry.

"You did, but they decided to kick us both out, what with one of us in jail and the other in an insane asylum and shit like that," she said with one of her dangerous smirks.

Axel had the distinct impression that she'd told the story different ways to different people. It was kind of a habit of hers.

"Alright, alright. So… where are you living right now?"

"I stayed at Marluxia's place last night."

That was really double-take worthy, but Axel's grin grew immensely. He had kind of assumed that she'd been hanging around the asylum when he saw her by the doorway, but he hadn't known it had been for _those_ kinds of reasons.

"Ah, yeah, Marly. So you finally found someone who's as much of a fucked up and sadistic bitch as you are? It must be true love," he said with as much sarcasm as he could muster up, which was considerable.

"Fuck you," she snapped, and gave him a very violent gesture.

"Ah, but you've found someone _else_ to do that with now, haven't you?" he shot back, smirk growing with every word.

She fairly glowered at him, and he just grinned in return.

"I just got tired of you and your inability to perform, you fag," she growled.

Even better. She was trying to pin this on _him_.

"Oh, that's not what you were saying back then. There aren't many guys who can take your shit in good humor, babe, and I'm fairly sure I was your first good fuck in years," he mentioned casually, spark in his eyes giving away his teasing intent. He gave his head a shake to toss his hair back into place.

"You're not even half the man Marluxia is," she spat, crossing her arms viciously.

"Has he finally managed to get you on bottom, then?" he asked with amusement. "Because as I recall, it wasn't worth the fight."

"Or you're just a closet masochist."

"Hey, you're an open sadist so I'd say the balance here is kind of tipped in my favor."

"Fuck you," she said again, evidently unable to come up with anything better.

"Love to, can't. But babe, you lost me my apartment and I'm definitely expecting compensation in about a month's time." His eyes glinted with that. "You get your trust fund, I get my payment for that apartment, and all is well. Because as much as I enjoyed our time together, your sex definitely isn't good enough to pay me for my apartment."

She flinched at that, and Axel grinned. He was one of the few people who could really throw Larxene for a loop, and he was quite proud of that fact.

"See you in a month, then," he told her cheerily as she stormed off through the door.

Damn, that woman was _so_ much fun to piss off.

XXX

The door to the assassin's cell was locked and barred, as much as could be managed with the 24-hour holding cell with which the police station was provided. Roxas was sitting outside the cell, sheet-faced, hand gripping the chair arms with a force that made his knuckles go white. Seeing him, Riku almost regretted bringing the boy there in the first place – but really, he had better things to regret right about then.

He shifted his weight off of Sora slowly as they approached the door, testing his body's capability to walk after everything. Finding himself able to move, he took one, two stumbling steps towards the door, putting his hand out to catch himself on the doorknob.

"This guy… she got him good, did she?" he asked after a moment, voice choked on guilt and sadness and fury. His eyes were hard, burning with vengeance.

"She got him, Riku, but he's going to survive. Yuffie never did shoot to kill," the brunette responded.

Riku stood up straighter, suddenly.

"She should have shot to kill. She should have fucking _unloaded_ on the goddamn son of a bitch," he spat. "_I _should fucking _kill_ him."

Sora was up beside him again in a flash, expression determined but hands shaking with emotion.

"Riku, you can't do that. Maybe he deserves to die, I don't know, but that's not for us to decide." He paused to give Riku a hard stare. "You don't have control of life or death, or the final say in justice. Please, _please,_ don't do anything stupid."

Riku sighed, and dropped his gaze slowly. He was flushed with so many emotions that he couldn't single out just one, and every emotion wanted him to do something different. Part of him wanted to lash out, to tell Sora that he didn't know what the _fuck_ he was talking about. But that look in his lover's eyes stopped him, and he wouldn't look at that expression more than once.

"Yeah, sorry…" he finally said in apology. "I won't do anything stupid."

"Good. Are you safe to see the inmate now?"

"Yeah." A pause. "I'll be fine."

"Alright then, I'm trusting you Riku," he said with a small smile before unlocking the door to the killer's room.

The man was curled up on the bed in a protective position, almost fetal, with his hands half clenched and opening, closing slowly. After only a few moments, his body straightened, and he gave this great cry of pain that almost frightened Riku with its raw intensity.

The wound on his leg was bandaged tightly, but a bit of blood had seeped through – he realized why when the assassin began tearing at the wound – then at his skin, his face, his eyes – in a mad attempt to rip his flesh from bone. Riku was frozen in place, but Sora ran forward in his place and grabbed the patient's hands and held them behind the man.

But the most frightening thing of all was the eyes – the eyes that gazed blankly at him, stared piercingly through him as if the man wasn't even there. Those eyes were coated, it seemed, with a layer of blindness – not that he couldn't _see_, but he couldn't understand. He was fairly writhing in Sora's grip, but the brunette didn't move.

"It's the salt, isn't it?" Riku finally asked, halting. "I've never seen the effects up close. He's on that drug Setzer's been dealing. Jenova."

"Yeah…" responded his partner, eyes locked onto the patient. "That's what it looks like. He's been asking for "salt." He's probably been looking for that drug."

"Yes, please, salt," came the voice from the man on the bed. "Please give me salt," he begged, pleaded, eyes refocusing finally to lock onto Sora's. Tears gathered in path down his cheeks and nose, and the small quaver in his voice was almost enough to give Riku pause.

"What's your name?" he asked harshly, to hide or quell the inklings of pity stirring in his heart. This was the man who killed Yuffie. He didn't deserve pity.

"_Please_ give me salt," he begged, contorting and shaking, twisting his body in any way that he could with his restraints.

"I'm not going to give you salt. What's your name?" He moved forward in a threatening motion, but Sora put his hand out to stop his partner.

"He's just a boy," he said quietly. "Maybe not in age, but he's so childlike. Have some pity, Riku."

"What in hell do you want me to do, give him drugs and leave him be?" he snapped.

"No, but maybe you could wait until he's calmed down some?"

"Sora," he began, "I know drugs. This will only get worse. It's been most likely only a few hours since he was last dosed, if they work like I think they do. He's addicted _bad_."

"Yeah, but right now he doesn't even know who or what you are, much less the difference between right and wrong," Sora responded. "Have a heart. You can't bring Yuffie back by hurting him."

Riku flinched almost like he had been slapped with the words.

"I'm not going to let these _people_ run the street. I'm not going to let them get away with murder," came his cold reply. Sora was sometimes too kind for his own good, or for everyone else's good.

"What's your name?" Riku repeated darkly.

"…Kadaj," the patient responded finally, after a long silence. "I'm Kadaj," he whimpered.

Riku almost smiled, but stopped himself. The situation was too serious even to celebrate small victories.

"Did Setzer hire you to kill us?"

"…Setzer gave me salt, I gave him blood. Please, don't hurt me," he moaned. "Give me salt… There are roaches, they're on my skin, they're under my skin and crawling and _please _let me get them out, let me take them out. Kill them," he begged, and in a rare moment of lucidity, he asked, "Kill me. Please let me die."

"We can't do that," Sora interrupted. "We're going to try to help you. But it'll be hard to do."

His partner tensed at those words.

"_No,_ we're not _helping_ him. We're going to lock his ass away for as long as he fucking _lives,"_ he hissed.

Sora shot him a glare – and that, at least, was so uncharacteristic of the other man that he shut his mouth.

"Kadaj, we're going to help you," he soothed. "We're going to get the man who did this to you. We're going to make you better."

"Give me salt?" the silver-haired man asked hopefully, body growing stiller and calmer as he began to focus on Sora's words.

"No, better than salt. We'll make you better, I promise."

Riku cringed – he shouldn't make promises he didn't know that he could keep – but he didn't say anything.

The brunette nodded to him and, after handcuffing Kadaj's hands behind him, put a hand on his partner's back and steered him out, shutting and locking the door quietly.

"You're being too nice," he said at length, not meeting his partner's gaze. Roxas was watching them both, wide-eyed, but neither cared.

"No, Riku, you're being too harsh. He doesn't even know what he's doing. He probably doesn't even understand the concept of death."

"Then he shouldn't mind dying," he shot back, and turned away. "He doesn't even deserve to go to jail."

"I keep telling you, it's not your place to decide!" Sora almost shouted with this mixture of anguish and anger that made Riku's heart hurt for him.

He gave Sora a look, and their gazes met really for the first time in a while.

"I know, I'm sorry. It's just…"

"I know," Sora responded. "You don't have to say anything."

And Riku gave his lover a tiny smile, because he knew he didn't.

XXX

It had been a curious day, really. Demyx noticed that Marluxia hadn't really been in the asylum at all, and he could only assume that he was busy restarting where he'd been interrupted. And repeating the experience, most likely.

But neither of them were his object just then – what he really wanted was to talk to Zexion. Not that that was so different from his state of being daily, but he really kind of wanted to talk to him with a _purpose_ now. What with Axel and Roxas leaving the asylum, it seemed like the time was right.

He arrived in front of the doorway to Zexion's office within moments, rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet and took a deep breath to calm his nerves, then knocked more out of residual politeness than anything and walked through the door. Zexion was busily working at papers, as usual, and looked up in surprise to see Demyx, as he probably hadn't heard the knock.

"Hey Zexy, what's up?"

"Demyx. I didn't expect you. I'm… processing paperwork."

Demyx smiled. His Zexy was always working. He'd loosened up some, sure, but he was still way too tense.

"You work too hard. You should really give it up and go home sometimes." He paused to move over by the doctor's work, peering at the files. "Don't try to fool me, I know you practically live here." Kairi had been lamenting to him about how Zexion was going to work himself into the ground, and he'd just smiled at her, because he knew that that was about to change.

Zexion put a hand up to cover the paper, probably on instinct, then sighed and took it down again.

"It's not too much. I just… there's no real reason to go back to my apartment. I have nothing there more than I have here, and the nightshift pays extra," he said quietly, staring intently down at his papers, or away from Demyx. It was really kind of cute, actually. He suspected that there weren't many things that could fluster Zexion, and it was kind of nice to know that he was one of those things.

"Ah. Well," he said, moving behind the doctor's chair slowly, "That's one of the things I'm here to talk to you about." He put his hands on the other man's shoulders lightly, smiling when he jumped a little in surprise, and began kneading the tense knots slowly. "I get out of here in less than a month. On my eighteenth birthday, I gain the right to decide whether I stay here or not."

Zexion wasn't listening, instead struggling to keep his eyes open, probably in order to look like he wasn't enjoying the massage as much as he really was. He always tried to keep up that face.

"Mm," he said quietly, staring at the desk, eyes half-lidded. Demyx chuckled, then repeated the information.

"I'm getting out in just a couple of weeks," he said with a smile.

"Oh. Is that so." Zexion's voice didn't betray any kind of emotion, which was mildly uncomfortable for the blonde even though he knew that his reaction or lack thereof was probably for show.

"Yeah." He paused for effect. "And you know… I don't have a place to stay."

There was a long silence, during which Demyx continued teasing the other man's muscles out of tight knots.

"…What are you suggesting?" Zexion finally asked, looking back at Demyx as best as he could over his shoulder.

Demyx sighed. For such a smart man, he could be so _dense _sometimes.

"I want to come live with you," he finally said bluntly. "Please? I'll be going to college at Hollow Bastion University, which is just around the corner, so _that_ shouldn't be a problem."

"…You want to come live with me?" Zexion asked blankly, turning around to face the blonde properly.

"Didn't I just say that?" he asked with a smile, but the doctor seemed so utterly befuddled and clueless in that moment that just like that, on the spur of the moment, Demyx decided that subtlety – even mild subtlety – wasn't helping him any. A case like Zexion required a careful mixture of delicacy and pole-like bluntness. He could be as blunt as goddamn concrete.

So, against his better judgment and ignoring that part of his stomach that was fluttering uncontrollably, Demyx bent down and kissed the other man.

The blonde had almost expected the kiss to be awkward and slow, like first kisses generally are, but in half an instant Zexion was kissing him back with a passion that surprised them both, a fervor that more than made up for his lack of expertise. Their mouths were open in a breath, and they kissed as equals; not competing, neither dominating, but both indulging themselves in the other urgently, with a need born of long waiting.

When they finally pulled apart, Demyx couldn't quite restrain his giddy victory grin. Sometime during the kiss, he had sat down on Zexion's lap, and he decided that there was no need for him to move now, either. It was really a very nice place to be.

"…That was unexpected," the doctor said at length.

"Only to you," Demyx responded with a laugh. "You're so dense, and so smart too. It's incredible, really."

Zexion gave him a look that tried to be a glare and failed halfway, ending up looking thoroughly amused instead.

"I think you're talking too much," he said finally, with a smile as genuine as any Demyx had ever seen.

The blonde definitely thought that was accurate, and set out to remedy that state of affairs as quickly as possible.

XXX

Xemnas hadn't yet been to see Saïx again after their last conversation, but he had been working constantly to acquire the materials that would be necessary to perform the surgery. After the tests he had performed, he knew exactly which area of the brain was causing the patient's rages, and was confident that he would be able to implant the stabilizer with no detrimental effects to the patient's health.

A frontal lobotomy would cure all issues with the inmate's mind, but it would also render the person unable to care for themselves. It also would remove a patient's personality as cleanly as if it were a bug in malfunctioning machinery. That had been his plan, upon first arriving at the asylum; to perform a frontal lobotomy, and make the patient harmless; but he had found that, for once, his interest in the patient himself outweighed his interest in the surgery itself.

That was alright, however, because this surgery would be more complicated and difficult than a lobotomy. Xemnas had spent weeks reading up on the latest techniques, and his curiosity about the final result was greater than possibly he had ever felt before. Technology, with its many advances, was like having the world at his fingertips; he could cure anyone, do anything he chose.

When he finally went to deliver this news to Saïx, he swept through the door without knocking or asking back into the room where Saïx was evidently performing some kind of stretching exercise.

"I apologize for the interruption, but I have just received word that all of the materials for your surgery have arrived. Do you consent?" he asked, without any preliminary or explanatory statements.

Saïx opened his eyes, then slowly looked up at Xemnas from where he was sitting on the floor.

"When would it be?" he asked, monotone.

"Tomorrow, if you have nothing else that needs to be done." Of course he didn't.

"What, precisely, would this surgery consist of?" he asked. The doctor wondered for a moment if he had completely decided against it, then shrugged the thought off. Speculation would help no one, what would be would be.

"I would be placing a mechanical stabilizer on the part of your brain that controls your rages. It could be controlled remotely."

The patient stiffened at that, and Xemnas wondered precisely what it was that had made him uncomfortable.

"You could control my brain… with a remote," he said, with a hard look in his golden eyes.

"I would not have possession of said remote access device unless you desired it. It could easily be set to activate on the full moon."

"I don't like the fact there would be a machine out there that controls what I'm thinking. That is _not_ acceptable," he spat.

There was a long silence, and neither quite looked at the other. He was unsure precisely why he didn't wish to look at the other man, but he found himself rather uncomfortable nonetheless.

"It is your only way to leave this place, Saïx," he said finally. "If you ever want to lead a normal life, this is your option."

There was a silence that began slowly but dragged on into eternity.

"…I understand." Saïx paused, standing from the floor smoothly. "I want to leave this place. Tomorrow, then?"

"Tomorrow," the doctor responded quietly.

He looked forward to it immensely, with a sort of tingling anticipation that he couldn't recall ever feeling before. But, strangely enough, he couldn't decide whether that was because of the prospect of the surgery itself, or of Saïx's subsequent release. He was not used to caring for individuals in any capacity, and he was surprised by how little that bothered him.

Yes, he was looking forward to it immensely.

XXX

XXX

Sorry for the wait. Chapter's not particularly long but a lot happens, yes?

But last chapter, my feedback level was at a low... and even though I'm writing for my own enjoyment, when you don't get feedback from your audience, it's disconcerting and strange. Imagine it this way: you're acting onstage, and when the show's done, it's totally silent as everyone leaves.

So, please, if you have a moment, I'd _really_ like to hear your thoughts.

As always, thank you so much for reading. 3 I appreciate each and every review, you guys make my _life_.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

It took a longer time than either of them expected for Riku to finally calm down after questioning Kadaj. Never before in his life had he experienced quite such an unyielding rage, and the anger sat, hot, at the back of his throat until at least half an hour had passed. But he had a job to do, and he would do it, dammit, no matter _who_ had just died, no matter how much he wanted to just sit there and stare at the floor.

"Riku?" Sora asked questioningly as the other stood, finally, slowly making his body respond to his requests. It was past nightfall, now, maybe eight o'clock, and there was a job to be done tonight, before anything else happened. Before anyone else died. Before Cloud came back and realized that not only was one of his best friends – one of his only friends – dead, but nobody was doing a fucking thing about it.

"Yeah. I'm fine. Now, we have a job to do."

Sora blinked, clueless. Of course, he forgot in the midst of all the chaos.

"Remember, we're staking out Setzer's hideout tonight. It should be safer, considering that this monster," he jerked his head towards the holding cell "has been taken out. Also, we'll have the element of surprise."

There was a pause, and Riku saw Sora shake his head through the corner of his eyes.

"Riku, I think…"

"I'm sorry, but I really think this is the best way," he interrupted with a small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. He was still too distracted, too upset to really smile, even at his lover.

"I don't, Riku. I don't think that we have the right – even if we do technically – to bring in a civilian to help us here. He's just a kid."

Roxas gave an indignant little huff from where he was sitting, but they both ignored it.

"Look, if Roxas's help can keep the rest of the squad from dying, I'm more than just willing," he said slowly. "We'll make sure Roxas doesn't die. We have to get a positive fucking ID on this guy. Kadaj admitting to being hired by Setzer would be a lot more help if he wasn't out of his goddamn _mind_."

Riku's eyes shifted, unwilling to meet either Sora's or Roxas's gazes. He hated seeming like the bad guy here, when all he wanted to do was keep his team alive, but it couldn't really be helped.

"I mean, if…" The man was interrupted suddenly by Roxas's voice.

"I'll do it," he informed them quietly.

"What? Roxas, I don't think you quite understand what this…"

"No, I understand. But I don't want anyone else to die, and if maybe this can help you _and_ help me to get my memories back… then I'm in," he said with a smile.

Riku almost shot back that the boy _definitely_ didn't understand what was going on. Until you've been faced with violence, you never understand. You can think you do, but you don't. He didn't, though, because the boy's overconfidence was for the best, in the end.

"Sora," he reassured his friend, "It's going to be fine. Roxas agreed. We can't necessarily guarantee that there are no other killers out there, but even just walking by might be enough to trigger Roxas's memories."

Sora smiled a little at him.

"You're pinning everything on hoping that he can get his memory back?"

"No…" he responded with a small shake of his head. That would be just like him, but not this time. "Honestly, we might have a case without it, with bits of information gleaned from Seifer, with our reconnaissance, and with Kadaj's confession. But… if we're going to bring this against him, I want to have this fucker by the _balls_. I'm not going to let him get away, because if he does, we don't get a second chance to pin him to the wall."

"No double jeopardy and all that."

"Yeah."

"And you think Roxas was far enough in to really give us the nail in the coffin?"

"Even if he wasn't, he's probably connected to someone who could."

"…Probably." Riku could hear the reluctance on his voice, but after Roxas agreed, he knew that the other man wasn't going to argue. And it was better that way.

XXX

The story that Axel's landlord gave him to account for the sudden disappearance of his living space was distinctly different from the one Larxene had given him. He was vaguely more inclined to believe the landlord – it involved many more illegal activities than Larxene's version, and he was willing to bet that the landlord didn't have hobbies involving copious amounts of lying. Or maiming people.

He said that Larxene had been kicked out because she had been engaging in a rough and kinky session of sadomasochistic sex in their apartment room, during which play apparently got a little too rough for the poor fuck and he up and died on her. He didn't even want to think about what she did with the body _after_ she realized that her partner had died. She generally preferred her victims writhing in pain, so Axel just had to assume she lost interest after he died. Afterwards, she'd walked downstairs and informed the landlord that there was a dead man in her room, and would he please call the maid to clean up the blood.

That was coincidentally also the reason she was jailed.

The redhead was stuck halfway in between laughing his ass off about the whole situation and running to Canada in terror. He knew that he really shouldn't laugh, because someone had died in this whole thing, but still, dying during kinky sex with Larxene was one hell of a way to go.

The man was happy enough to let Axel back into the room when he flashed some cash and promised that the psycho bitch wasn't going to be his roommate anymore. His job as a car mechanic didn't really pay that much, but it was enough to cover the apartment if he was smart about it. Their band didn't have a recording contract – yet, dammit – but the bit of cash they made from live appearances was enough to keep them all running. The job was mostly to keep them alive between shows.

Axel smiled when he walked into his room and realized that all of his stuff was still there – it was all clean; evidently they'd sent in a maid in preparation for removing everything for the sale – but it was all still there.

His drum set gleamed invitingly from its position in the corner of the living room, Demyx's sitar smiling from next to it. Only so long 'till he'd be out and the band could start up again. Axel might not know a lot of shit, but he knew that their group was really good. Only a matter of time until they got a contract. They had a couple of people here and there showing interest – mostly 'cause Larxene's name carried some weight in the music industry – but nothing definitive yet. Yet, of course, being the key word.

If they were lucky, Roxas would remember his mad keyboarding skills from middle school when he got his memory back. Then, everything would be perfect. A great band, plus one member, and Roxas to keep him warm at night.

He couldn't help but grin at the thought.

XXX

It was almost nine before Saïx was once again interrupted by Xemnas's entrance. He hadn't particularly been expecting another intrusion that evening, but it wasn't particularly unwelcome just the same.

"Why did you come here?" the patient asked gruffly, leaning on one elbow, having propped himself up from his previous lying position.

"Pre-surgery debriefing. Legally, I'm required to give you the details before the procedure," he said calmly, taking a few steps forward to enter the room properly.

"Since when have you cared about the law?" came Saïx's response.

Xemnas gave a quiet snort, and Saïx almost laughed at the look of derision on his face. He would ignore any laws that inconvenienced him, to be sure.

"The law is simple enough, and it costs me nothing. It's not a problem to do, and it doesn't get in my way any."

"I see," the patient responded. He sat up properly, waited a moment, then stood and stretched, having been lying down for far too long.

"Well then," Xemnas began, then paused. "If you have nothing else of importance to discuss…" He paused again. As he spoke, Saïx wasn't quite able to keep his eyes off places that maybe they shouldn't have been – then, in a sudden burst of inspiration, he made his decision.

"The surgery will be at nine o'clock tomorrow morning," Xemnas continued tonelessly. "We will meet you…"

And without warning, the doctor's words were cut off by Saïx's lips on his own, moving against them quietly, with the calm that comes with deliberation. It only lasted for a moment – he pulled away quickly enough, but he noted with amusement the look of shock on the doctor's face.

"I did, actually, have something important that needed to be addressed," the patient said with a smile in his voice even if not on his faced.

"…Clearly." A pause. "What, precisely, was the reasoning behind your actions?"

"It might be the last time," Saïx responded quietly. "At least, the last time while I have complete control of my own mental faculties." He had really wanted to do this, just once, with no pretenses, no lies or ulterior motivations – just the two of them, one man and another and whatever it was that attracted them to each other.

There was a long silence, during which neither moved, and wouldn't quite look at the other.

"…It will not be the last time," the doctor finally said, sounding almost unsure, if such a thing were possible for the man.

Saïx blinked. That had hardly been the response he was expecting.

"Pardon?" he asked with an attempt at uncaring tonelessness that failed utterly.

"It will not be the last time," Xemnas repeated, with more confidence, this time.

"The last time I have control over my own mind or the last time for…"

"Either," the doctor interrupted swiftly, before pulling the other man into another kiss. This one was harder, rougher, and maybe a little bit desperate, with the edge that comes of not knowing what the next day would bring.

Their mouths opened, and it was like they were devouring each other, fighting and clashing in a fit of passion. Somehow in the confusion, they found themselves entangled on the bed, and before Saïx could move or protest his shirt had been stripped off its body, by himself or the other he couldn't properly say, and then they were joined again, kissing fiercely. Neither quite fought with the intention of pure dominance, and neither gave in, but perhaps their passion held just a bit less animosity than before.

XXX

The two police officers had decided to wait until the next day to stake out Setzer's hideout, but that didn't really make it any easier for the young blonde who was tagging along with them.

Roxas's breath was coming fast and hard already, and he wasn't even doing anything yet. Maybe he'd agreed to do this – he wasn't sure whether it was more to help out the cops or to get his own memories back – but that fact didn't mean he wasn't scared. He was. Terrified was more like it, really. Scared out of his goddamn wits.

The street was lit a dusky orange in the new light, and the fact that there wasn't anybody visible on the pavement served only to make the blonde more, rather than less, nervous. He guessed that it must have been the instincts from his old life popping up again, but he would have rather been able to see someone – because the fact that he couldn't see anyone was more indicative that the guards were good than that they weren't there.

He tried to control his breathing and look natural, but he would make a rather large bet that he was failing, and he couldn't quite feel comfortable even behind the large sunglasses and hood that he was wearing. Riku had dyed his hair with a temporary red – very temporary, he suspected, as Riku didn't seem to be the sort of person who took appearances lightly – and although the change in looks assuaged his nervousness somewhat, it didn't completely succeed. He didn't really want to die here today. He had friends now, and a life to start.

He wondered for a moment at why Sora, trademark hair not quite letting itself be hidden under a cap, was looking so relaxed and comfortable in this situation. His hands were swinging freely, and he looked for all the world like he hadn't a worry. Roxas wasn't sure if that made him respect the cop or hate him out of sheer jealousy. It seemed more than just slightly unfair that the brunette seemed so carefree when he could feel the sweat making its way down his forehead in tiny, twisting rivulets.

They approached the building at a brisk pace, or at least what Roxas assumed had to have been the building – it looked familiar, in a vague, undefined sort of way, for which he thanked God or whatever other deities might have been listening – but he felt his nerves increasing exponentially with every step, until his movements were almost painful with his fear.

"See anything yet?" Riku asked with an attempt at a casual tone, but there was an undercurrent of tension and anger running through his voice that was hard to miss.

"No, but it looks kind of familiar," he said shakily, trying not to search the skyline for hidden assassins. He tried to tell himself that he was being paranoid, but couldn't quite believe it.

"That's good!" Sora responded cheerily, trying to make the best out of the situation as always. Roxas didn't mention that the fact that he kind of maybe remembered it probably meant that the people inside definitely and distinctly remembered him. Or at least some of them. And that made him notably uncomfortable.

As the door approached even closer, he saw a figure by the doorway, then two as the other could finally be seen from behind the first. They were sitting casually on the steps, chatting – probably a ruse to distract the enemy – but Roxas couldn't help staring. They looked familiar, so familiar – and seeing them made his terror increase tenfold, until he just stopped, where he was standing, and tried in vain to say something to Riku and Sora. He knew these people, he knew them – the redhead was grinning, oh god, in a way that he remembered even through the haze of his lost memories, and the blonde woman was so sharply familiar that it was like a blade to his gut. He couldn't keep walking. He wouldn't.

The two cops kept right on walking, and Roxas couldn't follow them. He couldn't take another step towards these people. He wouldn't.

Suddenly, the blonde woman locked eyes with him, and he knew, he just _knew_ that she recognized him, though he couldn't see her face in enough definition to see the widening of the eyes that he knew would be happening.

He knew that he shouldn't be doing this, that it wouldn't work, wouldn't help; but he couldn't stop himself. He took one step backwards, then two, then turned and bolted.

He could hear Riku and Sora's noises of surprise from up ahead of him, and then the sound of them drawing their pistols as a shout came from the steps of the building. They were coming for him, and he didn't even know what he'd done, or what they were to him, had been to him – but he was scared. He could practically feel the guards' guns at his back.

Suddenly, his vision went black, and his head split with a monstrous pain; he screamed from it, it felt like a bullet to his head although he was almost sure this hadn't yet happened, or maybe it had, he couldn't _see_ the blood but then he couldn't see _anything_. All he knew was that he was helpless, immobile, now on his knees on the pavement and he couldn't hear anything but this dull roaring in his ears and oh _god_ how much it hurt, he almost couldn't bear it. He was blind and helpless and terrified, and he knew, just knew, that today, he was going to die.

God, he was going to miss life.

XXX

Saïx was thoroughly regretting his decision to go through with the surgery when he found himself tied down on an operating table at ten o'clock that morning. He hated hospitals and hated doctors – his bad luck to be stuck with both – but he hated being tied up even more. He hated the idea of being trapped and helpless and at someone else's mercy, and he was all of those things right now, and also waiting to have something implanted in his head that would either cure him or allow him to be controlled by someone else, or both.

Not a thrilling prospect.

But the idea of being done with doctors and hospitals forever – except, perhaps, for one doctor – was attractive enough that he would allow it.

The door opened, and though he could barely see because of the position in which his head was strapped, he realized within moments that it was Xemnas and his lackeys, masked and ready for the surgery. He only barely had time to see Xemnas's hand go up, signaling the anesthesia, before he was floating in the dark, and then gone.

XXX

When Saïx woke up, the first thing he knew was that there was a throbbing pain in his head, dulled, he suspected, by high levels of medication, about which he was hardly complaining. He was probably in the recovery room, he guessed through the combined haze of medication and pain, and the nurse standing over him gave him a quick smile.

"How are you feeling?"

"Well enough, given the circumstances," he growled.

"Please don't take that tone with me. I don't want to have to calm you down with your new device, but I will if you force me," she said with a smile that served more to make him angry than to calm him down.

Saïx blinked in surprise – he'd almost forgotten about the control. Almost.

"Fuck you," he snarled, eyes unfocused.

"Sir, please, calm down."

"I think you'd say the same thing if someone told you they were going to control what you were thinking through a fucking _remote control._"

"Point taken," came Xemnas's voice from the other side of the room. "Ms. Shakre, please stop antagonizing the patient. And please do not imply to him that you are in possession of his remote, because I am in sole possession of that article and will not give it away."

"And I suppose that's supposed to make me feel better," Saïx said, halfway between anger and amusement.

"I wouldn't think so, no. But it was an attempt, nonetheless," the doctor responded, completely deadpan. The patient couldn't quite tell if he was being serious or not. He opted not to ask.

"So how was the operation? Did it go well?" he asked slowly, carefully trying not to slur his words despite his confusion.

"We do not quite know yet," the other responded awkwardly, sounding uncomfortable with admitting his own shortcomings. "Once the inflammation goes down in your brain, tomorrow or the next day, we should be able to test it. And the incision was small and is covered by the hair at the back of your neck, so it is practically invisible."

Saïx raised an eyebrow from where he lay, and tried to hide an amused smile.

"…You were worried about my appearance."

There was a quick silence, but he didn't deny it, which Saïx took to mean a definite yes. For once, the man was left without a response, and that was enough of an affirmation for him.

He laughed, slowly and quietly, though it hurt his head to move at all.

"Xemnas," he began, "Thank you."

"I am not sure that I understand," came the toneless response.

"For getting me out. For getting me the hell out of here."

Saïx heard shifting noises beside him, and felt the pressure from his straps release one at a time. He lifted one hand and flexed it, testing.

"We will see. If the experiment… if the surgery is a success, then you are free to go. If it is a failure, then you must stay," he said seriously as he finally released the man. "We've left you here long enough that the anesthesia should be worn off enough to let you move on your own. I will not force you into a wheelchair."

Saïx gave him a nod of gratitude as he began to sit up.

"The experiment will be a success," he said with more confidence than he really felt. He stood gingerly, testing out his balance, one hand still on the bed to support himself.

There was only silence in response.

XXX

Riku knew something was wrong when he suddenly could no longer hear Roxas's steps beside him. Within instants of realizing this, he caught the forms of the two guards through the corner of his eye, and realized with a cold sweat what must have happened. The blonde woman was staring at the boy with an intensity that said that she probably recognized him – god_damn_ it – and the boy was already hightailing it the hell out of there.

The man's gun was out in half a second, and he knew Sora's would be too – but the guards hadn't yet noticed them. They were on their feet and after Roxas in less time than he thought possible from a sitting position.

In an instant, Roxas was down on his knees, and Riku couldn't quite tell what had caused it – he hadn't heard a gunshot, but a gun with a silencer could easily have brought the other down. The kid screamed heartrendingly, splitting the air with his wail of pain – and Riku, in a sudden flash of understanding, ran back towards Roxas rather than forwards towards his enemies.

"Stop!" came Sora's voice from behind him. "We're police! Don't make another move!"

Dammit, they were trying to get out of this _alive_, they'd better not pull weapons on Sora or… well, he wouldn't be held accountable for what he might do.

He reached Roxas in just a moment, but even a cursory search was enough to refute the existence of a gunshot wound, thank god.

"He's okay!" he yelled to Sora, not wanting to make that clearer for fear of the guards finding out their names properly. "Let's get the hell out of here!"

"Got it!"

Riku thought it kind of strange that not a shot had yet been fired, but he was hardly about to complain. There was an unmarked police vehicle around the corner of the street, parked just far enough out of sight to be of use, and it was bulletproof. So if they could just make it there…

Sora backed away from the guards slowly rather than running with his partner, gun pointed directly at them. Both the blonde and the redhead had their hands up, and though the redhead had a baton out, Riku could see over his shoulder that the woman's gun was still holstered.

He picked up Roxas quickly, swinging the boy over his shoulders with an ease born of practice. He burst into a run almost instantly, knowing that Sora would be close behind.

"Please don't move, I'd rather not have to shoot you," the brunette stated calmly, with an amount of bravery that almost made Riku smile despite himself. Sora really could take care of himself – Riku forgot that sometimes. But just the same, he was not comfortable with Sora being able to take care of himself against two armed guards who'd probably been doing this for their whole lives – and if either opponent decided to pull their gun, fuck Roxas, he'd turn and unload on the goddamned sons of bitches. God help them then.

He ran for just a moment, and saw Sora turn around to run properly in his peripheral vision as soon as they turned the corner. They were at the car before he knew it, and he dumped Roxas in the passenger's seat jus that Sora slid comfortably into the back. As they drove away, he could see the two guards – don't pay attention, it'll only distract you, the car's fucking bulletproof - and he assumed that they were away too quickly for either to really do anything, because the pop that he heard - thank god – didn't hit their tires. It looked like a nearby building had been hit, but then they were on the highway, and Riku hit the gas, and with a screech of his wheels they were off.

As soon as they were comfortably away from that area, Sora cleared his throat and asked the question that had been on the both of their minds.

"So… what the hell happened back there?" he questioned quietly, sober expression clearly visible in the rear-view mirror.

"I don't know. Roxas… he just collapsed," Riku responded with a glance towards Roxas, whose eyes were still screwed shut, from pain or terror he couldn't be sure. He was still shaking, poor kid. Maybe he could have done something differently, to avoid this.

"Hey, Roxas?" Sora asked, leaning forward into the front seat and gently shaking Roxas, moving him awkwardly into a sitting position.

There was no response from the boy, and both could only hope that his paralysis would pass quickly, because they needed him. And, from what Riku had heard, there was at least one more man in the world who needed Roxas desperately.

"It's probably a psychological thing. I've heard of people just freezing up when their memories come back, especially if they're… traumatic, which I'd bet they are," Riku remarked with an attempt at detachment.

"Here's hoping that it was that, and not just a panic attack, because they're not going to let us go back there anytime soon."

There was a pause, and Riku could only barely catch Sora's small smile in the mirror.

"Thank heavens for that," the brunette continued amusedly, "because I think you're attractive no matter what, but red hair really isn't your thing."

Riku was once again struck by how lost he'd be without his lover, because the sound he heard coming out of his throat, for the first time in days, was deep, unrestrained laughter.

God, he loved Sora more than he really had any right to.

XXX

Xemnas shook his head as he examined the stats being transmitted from Saïx's brain at that moment, but didn't say anything. No need to, yet. The patient was sitting impatiently, waiting for it; and the doctor wouldn't say anything until he was absolutely sure.

Another glance at the information said that his guess had been correct. The implant into the patient's head didn't help as much as it hurt – whenever the signal was put out that was meant to inhibit, the patient's system attempted to protect itself by overreacting and putting out even more of the hormone. Which meant, strangely enough, that when the device was activated, he was angrier than he would have been, and less human.

It took him a moment to work up to admitting it, because admitting his own failure was one of the hardest things he had ever had to do, and not something that he was often confronted with. And not only would that be difficult, but in the process, he would have to inform Saïx that he would never be allowed to leave this place.

Strangely, that seemed to upset him almost as much as it upset the patient.

XXX

"It didn't work." Saïx gave a disbelieving pause. "It didn't fucking work," Saïx growled angrily at the doctor.

Xemnas shook his head, but the rest of his face betrayed no emotion.

"Some subjects are less responsive to intrusions than…"

"Don't _give_ me that," he snarled, furious and frustrated. "You made me believe that if I did this, I'd get _out._ Now I have metal in my fucking head and I'm _still_ stuck in this place for the rest of my life. You _lied_ to me."

It was all he could do to stop himself from exploding at the doctor – his lover now, maybe, but still an arrogant asshole nonetheless. But attacking the other man, even non-lethally, would hardly help his case – in fact, it would do just the opposite. He slowly calmed his breathing, deliberately attempting to control his anger.

"I did not lie," Xemnas stated, evidently unable to defend himself any better in the face of that onslaught. He wouldn't quite meet Saïx's eyes.

"You were an overconfident bastard, and now I'm the one paying the price for your fucking God-complex."

"…It was a mistake."

"Not helping. Not everything can be fixed by simply acknowledging that you made a mistake. You always think that you should be free of any blame. I know that privately you're probably blaming _me_ or one of the dumbasses who works for you for all this shit."

There was a long silence, and Saïx's hard stare met Xemnas's through the emptiness, and he saw in them, for the first time, a look of apology.

"I am sorry. I will…" The doctor stopped for a moment, choking on his pride. "I will do everything I can to make this right again."

Another pause.

"What in hell do you think you can do?" the inmate spat, almost turning away. "You've taken any hope away from me."

Half a moment and a few short steps closed the distance between them and in all of an instant, Xemnas was kissing him slowly, awkwardly. Saïx was even more surprised by that fact than by the actual gesture – the doctor was pulling in his natural desire to dominate, in an honest attempt to make amends.

When they pulled apart, the expression of neither had changed.

"You can't make everything better with a kiss, either," the patient stated coolly.

"But it is considerably better than doing nothing," Xemnas responded with a half-smile.

And then, their lips were together again, and all thoughts of hope and of apologies were forgotten.

XXX

By the time the cops got back to the station, they had decided that for some reason, something had induced a panic attack in Roxas. Sora couldn't help but feel responsible, even though he knew it was necessary, because even though he was important, the blonde was still a civilian. He hated getting civilians involved when they didn't have to be.

Riku carried the boy in, and Sora hovered awkwardly behind, ready to help if something needed to be done but unsure exactly what that might be.

"Do you want to put him in the holding cell?" he asked as soon as they were in and the door was shut.

"Yeah, that would probably be safest. Lock the door, would you?"

Sora did so, and proceeded to bar it also. They would be safe in here – everything was bulletproof, and they had excellent security systems. Cid had made sure of that.

He was distracted from his perusal of the premises when Roxas finally made a noise, just as Riku set him down on the hard bench that the cells were provided with, and he jogged lightly over, just so he could be there when the boy woke up.

"Hey, Roxas? How are you feeling?"

"Like shit," came the groggy response. "What the hell happened?"

At the very least, he was honest.

"You passed out," responded Riku bluntly. Traumatic experiences tended to take the edge off of his tact.

"What the fuck for? And… oh hell, I remember now."

Riku and Sora's eyes met excitedly for a moment.

"Really? You remember everything?" the brunette asked excitedly.

He calmed down quickly enough when the blonde shook his head. Dammit, that had been their chance at really clinching it! They had put an innocent civilian in danger and hadn't even gotten anything out of it.

Riku tensed almost angrily, and Sora put a restraining hand on his shoulder.

"What do you remember? Do you remember why you ran away?" he asked calmly, soothingly.

"I remember…" Roxas paused, large eyes examining the room. "I remember recognizing the blonde, and the redhead too, somewhat. I think… I think that the blonde woman might have been my mother," he said, sounding awkward and unsure. "I dunno. She… she _feels_ like my mother."

There was another silence, and after a moment Sora realized that he was gripping Riku's arm hard enough to bruise.

"Can you tell us anything else about her?" Riku asked. "Can you tell us the identity of the redhead? Do you remember anything else about the organization?"

The blonde closed his eyes again.

"No. I'm sorry. I just… I saw them, and I panicked." He paused. "…Can I go, now? Have I helped you any?"

Sora gave him a distracted smile, speaking silently with Riku. This little bit of information would have to do, for now, and could be a tool if the woman was ever incarcerated…

"Sorry, you can't go just yet. It's not safe, and we might need you."

He didn't answer the other question. He hadn't really helped much at all, but they would have to do the best that they could with what they had. Any other way, and they would have given up in despair by then.

Sora wasn't the type to give up.

XXX

Xemnas was only mildly surprised to feel Saïx move against him, sitting up from the position on the doctor's chest in which he'd been for at least the past hour. He took a moment to admire his lover's exposed torso before all other thoughts were blinded by a passionate meeting of lips, and even his superb mental faculties went completely out the window.

There was a rumble in the patient's throat as he pulled away, eyes glinting in the half-light of the evening.

"I'm going to leave this place," he stated quietly, deep voice both soothing and seductive in the doctor's ear.

Xemnas didn't say anything – because the only response to that would be that it simply wasn't possible.

"I'm going to escape," he continued. "I'm going to run away." There was a silence. "Xemnas… come away with me. Help me get the hell out of here. We can go to some other country, somewhere that's never even heard of you or me. I can live as a real fucking person for once."

And somehow, without the consent of his brain, Xemnas found himself agreeing. As they lost themselves again to passion, he couldn't help but wonder what in hell he had just agreed to, or where in hell it was going to go.

A small voice at the back of his head, one he normally didn't listen to, told him that it wouldn't be good.

XXX

XXX

Thanks for reading, guys. I apologize again for the long wait, but at least this time the reason was a convention rather than just pure and total block.

Sorry, no Zemyx this chapter, they will (hopefully) be back next time. Not really much crack either, disappointing I know "

Sorry, next update up sooner.

I love each and every one of you

3 Mthaytr


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Kadaj had been stuck in that place, that prison, in those bars, for a long, long time, and there was nothing he wanted more than freedom, again, with salt on his tongue and the wind in his face.. He could tell by the light through the window that it was daytime, and the sun made his skin hurt, but what hurt even more was the absence of salt in his system – he couldn't live without it; his body seemed almost dead, it was so still, without the constant hum of salt through it. He had stopped screaming a while back, when he realized in some lucid part of his mind that his screaming was causing the blood that was coming out of the corners of his mouth.

But still, he writhed in the pain of it, knowing that only a little bit of salt – just a little – would make him feel better again. All better. And the bugs – he could see them moving, just under his skin – would all go away. Salt killed the bugs.

He didn't quite understand what was happening, but at one point he found himself on his feet, and began to beat at the bugs wherever he could see them. Eventually, he found the most dangerous thing in that room – the doorknob – and using it to beat the bugs to death. He felt that the loss of blood was a viable exchange.

Then, all of a sudden, there was an answering knock on the door, and something much more dangerous entered the room.

Kadaj stared at the other man, and didn't quite recognize him – maybe he'd seen the other man lurking around somewhere, but darkness was hard to look at when you didn't know what else might be hiding there.

Before he could say a word, there was a sword through his heart, and it dug, twisting, until the blood dripped in little rivulets down his chest, making the leather a darker color than black.

His last thought before he gasped his last breath was that he would never see salt again, never taste it on his tongue. He could hardly even wonder whether that was a good or bad thing before his mind was completely extinguished.

XXX

Sora hadn't really been planning on checking the prisoner's room after speaking with Roxas, but it suddenly dawned on him that that might be necessary when he saw the dark red blood, dried with time, frozen in its creeping path under the door.

"Oh my god, Riku, please come here quickly."

"What is it?" Riku asked from his desk, where he was busily typing up a request for a warrant against Setzer. A day, maybe two at most, and they'd have it – and by then, Cloud would be back to lead the assault on headquarters. At least, that's what their plan had been. If the situation in the cell was anything like what the brunette thought it might be, then… well, alternate arrangements would have to be come to.

"I think… I think Kadaj is dead," he said breathlessly as he fumbled with the key, trying to avoid stepping in the sticky mess that seeped out onto the floor.

"What?!"

Sora didn't answer as the door swung open – instead, he put his hand on his gun, but was nevertheless unprepared for the scene in front of him.

The inmate lay sprawled out on the floor, with a gaping hole in his chest that indicated where a blade might have entered or left – but unlike blade wounds, which tended to be clean, this one looked more like a bull's gore wound. Pieces of flesh lay on the ground around his body, and a splatter of blood on the wall showed where the killer must have cleaned his weapon – probably a sword, if the amount of blood in the area was any indication.

It was all Sora could do not to vomit on the spot. Sure he had been on homicide cases before – with a small force like this, it was difficult to avoid – but normally he stayed far away from the corpse itself, as far away as was humanly possible.

"Riku… I can smell it," he choked out, turning away to look at his lover, bright eyes brimming with unshed tears. "He's dead, there's blood _everywhere_…"

In just a few strides, Riku was beside him, and his expression hardened at the carnage.

"Son of a _bitch_," he snarled, one fist clenching hard enough that his nails drew blood. Normally, this would be Sora's cue to comfort him, but even trying to move made his stomach roll. He closed his eyes, instead, trying to block it out.

"I can't… call Twilight Town's homicide department, I'm not up to this," the brunette moaned quietly.

"Yeah, I will. But can't you see what this means?"

Sora's muttered "Of course I do" went unnoticed, but the crazed look in Riku's eyes was altogether too clear.

"It means that our best testimony is gone. There's no way in _hell_ now that we'll be able to convict _that man_. And if we try, what's more, the defense is going to accuse _us_ of killing this man in order to get a better case against Setzer! Even more than that, _they can sneak into our fucking headquarters._"

Sora concentrated mostly on keeping his breathing calm, then opened his eyes again so he could see Riku's face, though he was carefully keeping his eyes off of the corpse.

"Yeah. I know all that. But…" There he paused. "But what are we going to do, give up hope? Even when everything seems against us, there is _still_ something out there that's going our way."

Riku gave him an incredulous look – he was in the habit of calling that point of view hopeless naïveté, but Sora preferred the term incorrigible optimism. Less derisive that way.

"In the past twenty-four hours, Yuffie died, we put a civilian in danger and got nothing out of it, and our best lead has _died_. Where in hell does all that hope come from, Sora?"

The brunette shrugged and tried to smile.

"Well, it's better than just giving up, isn't it?"

Because honestly, giving up wouldn't help anybody; and all that they could do, would be to wait in despair as the end drew near. And, inevitably, it would.

XXX

Xemnas received notification later that day that there was a warrant out on him – he could only assume that he hadn't yet been arrested because they were looking to collect enough information to be able to properly convict him before he was arrested. With it came an apology, that the warning had come so late – but the sender had been busy, at best.

Escaping with Saïx was beginning to sound like an increasingly excellent idea. He had been doubting the wisdom of it before, but now he realized that remaining here would only lead to the incarceration of both of them.

The plan was a fairly simple – Saïx was going to escape, apparently unaided unless the watcher knew exactly what was going on. He would climb down out of his window – there was an impressive oak outside that would serve him well once he used a drainpipe to climb down to the second level. Then, once the escape was complete, Xemnas would turn in his resignation form, and simply leave. They would then rendezvous at the home of one of the doctor's contacts – the one who sent the email – and from there, they would leave for Canada.

He had no worries monetarily, because he had assurances from the sources of his funding that the donations would continue no matter where they moved to, assuming he continued to research in the fields that they requested.

It was hardly perfect, but it was a better option than waiting for the police to get around to arresting him. He never had any particular desire to be locked away for the rest of his life. That would be a fate worse than death.

XXX

Saïx flexed a leather-gloved hand comfortably, grateful wordlessly for the gift Xemnas had given him a few days ago. Neither of them had said it, because someone might hear – but the plan was understood wordlessly. The gloves were to protect his hands as he shattered the glass window and bent the bars enough to get through.

One of the benefits, he mused silently, of having this disease, was that he could force his body to work at a much higher percentage of its maximum than was strictly normal or healthy. Every time he did it, there was almost as good a chance that he would hurt himself as hurt his opponent, but for situations like this, when one burst was all he would need, it was deadly useful.

He had often contemplated escaping – but without outside help, it would be fairly useless to attempt, as the police would simply hunt him down and shoot him like the rabid animal they all thought he was. Zexion had been out of the question because he simply would not help an inmate escape, no matter how much they respected each other.

But this evening, in the crystal darkness illuminated by the reflection of the moon on his windowpane, he was going to make his escape. He would be free of this place once and for all.

He pulled one arm back and let it swing, reveling in the feeling as the glass shattered around him in rainbow shards of crystal. There was only a five second delay after that, before the silence also was shattered by the screech of an alarm. He had maybe five minutes at best, but he had no doubt that he could do this.

He double-checked once that his remote was on him – ever since Xemnas had given it to him, he would not allow it off of his person – and then used every ounce of his muscle that he could, without breaking bone, to bend the iron bars. In a moment, he was onto the side of the building, then down to the oak, and within a minute had made it down onto the ground safely and was bursting across the manicured lawn and towards safety.

Towards freedom.

XXX

Zexion cursed rather more loudly than he was accustomed to as he was awoken from a dead sleep by the screaming of an alarm, followed soon enough afterwards by the screams of the patients.

He jogged quickly to the other bedroom for night-shift doctors to find some assistance in calming the uproar, before realizing that Marluxia, the other nightshift doctor, had been somewhat… distracted, lately, and had been giving up some of the shifts. Dammit.

He could tell by the tone of the alarm that it was a third-floor window-break, and that probably meant that it was an escape rather than a break-in, given that breaking into the third floor probably wouldn't work so well. And the only patient on the third floor, most likely, who was both capable of and desirous of an escape, was Saïx.

Zexion put on an extra burst of speed, hoping to catch the inmate before he hurt himself or someone else – and when he got off asylum property, he was suddenly in the police's jurisdiction. Then, if they thought he was a threat, they could just shoot him on sight. And _damn_ if the doctor would let that happen, after years of tentative, curious friendship.

He bolted up two flights of stairs as quickly as he could manage, then unlocked the door and swung it open as fast as the weight would allow, to find the window broken and the bars bent; but rushing to the window revealed nothing but an oak and expanse of lawn. Saïx had already escaped, and he couldn't be seen.

"Zexion? Is the patient gone?" came a voice from behind him, and he turned to see its owner – Kairi. As one of two head nurses, she took weekly shifts to stay in the place overnight, and strangely enough, he was glad that she was there.

"Yeah. We won't catch him now, he's lost. We'd better…" He took a deep breath. "We should call the police. Kairi." He gave her a nod, indicating that that was to be her job. "Make sure they know not to hurt him, if they can."

"Yeah, I'll try. But… I think they've been kind of busy lately. There's been somebody attacking them, and… well, Sora left me a message that said someone on the squad had died, and not to try to contact them in any way until they gave the go-ahead."

Zexion blinked at this latest news – the police wouldn't be helping them this time around. He was almost relieved, but not quite – the cops in the surrounding towns were not so likely to be merciful as Kairi's friends.

"Alright. I'll turn the alarm off. Go calm the patients; I'll be there in a moment."

He left through the open doorway quickly enough, but still it took him fifteen minutes to locate and disarm the alarm, as he'd never had to use it before. In another five minutes, he was up with the patients, and though his bedside manner had never been spectacular, he couldn't just sit by and listen as the patients screamed and cried because their carefully ordered worlds were ending.

It took the staff over an hour to calm down the patients – it was really not difficult, but many of the patients were like small children; they wanted to be held and comforted after something that frightening happened to them.

It was past midnight, now, and he had only finished with his last patient a few minutes ago when a burning realization coursed through him. Almost before he had time to think about it, he had turned around in a flash and was running back up – by now, he knew Demyx's medication schedule, and his last time had been at eleven. That was ten minutes after the alarm had rung.

So now, the blonde was un-medicated and completely alone, in a room that might or might not have been screened for dangerous objects that day. Or even that week. The patient seemed so _normal_ most of the time, it was easy to forget how dangerous he might be to himself.

Zexion reached the room in record time, attempting a façade of calm as he walked through the unlocked outer door. The sight inside surprised him much less than perhaps it should have; and he actually found himself relieved, as he had been busily imagining the worst-case scenarios as he ran. The boy was not, at least, covered in blood as he had been in some of the images – but nevertheless, the scene was almost enough to break his heart.

Demyx sat on the bed, hugging his knees as tightly as he could manage, eyes bloodshot and face stained by tears. He was shaking and rocking back and forth, and his mouth kept trying to make words but no sound would come out. His expression was vague and unfocused, and if it hadn't been for the wide, staring eyes, Zexion might have thought he had passed out.

"Demyx?" he posed tentatively, reaching out as he walked slowly over to the bed.

That single word seemed to break the boy from his reverie, and he jumped almost in shock.

"Zexion," he said, voice shaky from tears. "Why are you here? You should probably be a sleep," he continued desperately.

Zexion didn't respond, instead sitting down on the bed next to the blonde.

"We'll have your medication soon," he said, kicking himself mentally for not having anything better to say. So many things would have been better than that, and yet…

"Yeah, that's good, you should go to bed," he repeated, choking and eyes wide, trying to surreptitiously slide away from the other man.

"I'm not leaving until you're better," the doctor finally said, putting a hand on Demyx's shoulder and wincing when he twitched.

"Nothing to wait for, I'm fine," he insisted, unwilling to meet Zexion's gaze.

"No, you're not," the man responded at length. He put one finger under Demyx's chin gently, and pulled his face up to meet the other's gaze. "You're not yet." The unspoken implication, the words he was too afraid to say, was that he'd be there until the other _was_ alright.

"I'm fine, I promise." The blonde took a long, shuddering breath, and Zexion couldn't help but want to still the quaking – and he put his arms around the other man, holding him as he shook from trying to repress sobs.

"It's alright to not be fine," the doctor responded quietly – and it seemed like that, of all things, was enough to unleash a flood of tears. Not even trying to stop the flow, now, he threw his arms around the other man and squeezed as if his life depended on it. Which, perhaps, it might.

"No it's… I can't believe, I mean, what did I ever do to deserve someone like you?" he asked between sobs. Zexion was quite taken aback by this question – because honestly, the same question had occurred to him, only in reverse.

"You are hardly the undeserving one," he responded firmly. "You've…" He paused, gathering his thoughts. "You're all I have," he stated simply.

There was another silence, long and drawn out, and the doctor gently guided Demyx into a lying position. There they held each other, clinging tightly to each other as to a lifeline.

"Do you…" A breath. "Do you still like me?" the blonde asked at length, sounding unsure, perhaps… frightened?

Zexion blinked in surprise.

"Of course. Why wouldn't I?" He could hear the boy's deep sigh of relief, and that only made the doctor want to hold him tighter.

"Because… well, nobody's ever liked me when I'm like this," he responded, with a tone of brutal honesty. The doctor took a deep breath, but it caught in his throat – he was so beautiful, and so…

Well. Not for much longer.

"I like you still," he responded. "I like you even more, now." He was so strong – stronger than he had even known, before. It was hard not to care for this boy, who was so gentle and sweet despite everything. He fought so hard. He wouldn't say the words that were on the tip of his tongue, because they weren't true, yet, and he wouldn't do that to the younger man.

"That's… that's good," Demyx said, eyes bright and breath clearing. "I don't know what I would have done if…"

"Don't," the other interrupted. "Don't think things like that."

A silence.

"Alright," he responded with just a hint of a smile.

Life would be worthwhile if only he could keep helping this boy, every day of his whole goddamn existence. Everything would be worth it.

XXX

Riku received Kairi's call at about eleven ten, having been fast asleep on a bench in the outer area of the office. Even though the homicide crew had come in, taken notes, and cleaned up the body, still nobody wanted to sleep near that room that night.

He cursed when he heard it – not because there was an insane man on the loose, but because according to what he had seen, Saïx and the Superior were still very connected. If Saïx escaped, Xemnas would likely be going with him.

"Kairi, have you called Xemnas about this yet?" he asked forcefully.

"N-no, I thought…"

"Call him now. Chances are that he's not there." He growled. The fact that everything had happened on one night was too much of a coincidence to ignore. Chances were, someone wanted Xemnas out before something bad happened, and he'd decided to take his pet.

"But it's late, can't it wait?"

"No, if you wait, we'll never be able to catch him."

He hung up without saying goodbye, and within an instant was dialing Cloud Strife's number. As the captain of the squad, he had a right to be there when they raided Setzer's place. If his instincts were right, they would find Xemnas in that complex, and somehow involved with that whole thing.

Sephiroth, the county judge, had not yet passed through a warrant for Setzer, but Riku had confidence that it would be done by morning, with Cloud's intervention. The two of them had always had something of a rapport.

He could only hope that it was soon enough.

XXX

Saïx reached the rendezvous house within an hour of leaving the asylum – quite a feat, considering that he had to avoid anyone who looked like they might possibly stop a lone man at midnight. He couldn't afford to be stopped.

More dangerous, however, to his escape was his tendency to stop and marvel – it had been years since he last set foot on free ground, and this run, even on cold pavement, was awakening every bit of adrenaline he had. He felt it blaze through his system with his excitement, could feel it pump until every bit of him was coursing with it, clear as if he was lit. The wind roared in his ears and that only made him increase his speed – it wasn't enough, nothing was enough after what seemed like centuries of imprisonment.

The house arrived all too quickly, really – elegant Victorian balconies framing a large wooden door, and inside it, a tall, beautiful man with long, flowing silver hair. He slowed himself to a stop about ten feet in front of the door.

"Sephiroth?" he questioned, testing the waters.

"I am he. And you must be Saïx." He turned back towards his house. "Xemnas has not arrived yet, but you are free to come in and make yourself comfortable. Whatever you wish shall be yours."

There was a moment of discomfort as Saïx looked up at the imposing structure – it seemed as likely to eat him as house him, and after tasting his newfound freedom, he was loathe to return to even a semblance of captivity.

Nevertheless, he walked forward and took one step, two steps into the house. The door swung shut behind him, and he had to restrain his instinct to run back outside again. His gut told him that outside meant freedom, meant safety – but he ignored it, for this moment. Xemnas would be there soon.

XXX

It was only barely an hour later that Cloud appeared at the station, somewhat miraculously unharmed. Considering that it had been two days and there hadn't been any more injuries, Riku almost wanted to believe that they only had one assassin – but he knew that the moment he let down his guard would be exactly when another asshole would show up. So he didn't let his guard down.

"Cloud," he said, hand raised in greeting. "How was the homicide case?"

"Killer was released because it might have been accidental," the blonde responded curtly, face set into lines too hard for his years. That man was too old just to be twenty-four. "That's not our focus now."

Riku gave the other man a nod – their captain wasn't particularly talkative, but he more than got the job done.

"Alright then. We have reason to believe that a case we have been investigating and this whole case with Setzer are somehow involved. I also think that they're getting their people the hell out and moving to a different jurisdiction, so we don't have much time."

He gave a glance to Sora, who was still sleeping quite comfortably on the bench, and debated waking him up for this. The idea of his lover being safe at headquarters during some of the messy shit was extremely appealing, but at the same time… he knew that the brunette would be upset with him if he did that. Worse, he would be disappointed. Riku couldn't stand Sora's disappointment.

"So, we raid Setzer's tonight." A pause. "Do we have a warrant?"

"I sent out a request yesterday. Sephiroth should be getting back to us by this morning."

"I can ask him to date it earlier by a few hours," Cloud suggested quietly. He knew, just as Riku did, what needed to be done, and being unable to do it because of a legal hangup seemed shortsighted.

The other nodded in understanding, and moved to wake Sora without another word.

XXX

Xemnas arrived at the rendezvous house about a half hour after midnight, having walked rather than taken a car that could be traced. Their host had promised a car with which they could quietly leave the country, and enough money to restart their lives, so he hadn't needed to bring along anything in particular.

The door was unlocked, presumably for his entrance, and so he felt free to walk comfortably through the door. This was hardly the first time he'd been there, so it was easy enough to find his way to the central room.

The hallways were tall and almost gothic in nature, with empty space going all the way up to the top of the second floor. The hallways on the upper level were balconies, almost, and the railing was just short enough that a person could lean over comfortably. Xemnas had never really liked this display of opulence, but considering everything, he wouldn't say a word against it.

"Sephiroth," he said in greeting to the silver-haired man who sat on the couch in the middle of that room, fingers laced together and elbows resting on his crossed knees and the armrest.

"Where's Saïx?" he asked, giving the room a cursory glance that landed, and stayed, on the table. There was a device on it, a device that looked… strangely familiar.

"That is Saïx's control," he stated rather than questioned. Sephiroth, who hadn't yet said a word, stood casually, picking up the device with his left hand.

"It is, indeed, the device that controls the patient's mind." He paused, giving Xemnas a hard stare. "You did not inform me that this surgery had been performed on the patient."

Xemnas wouldn't back down from the stare, taking it as a challenge to his authority.

"I didn't feel that you needed to know," he responded haughtily. "This was not part of the experimentation. It was something separate entirely."

"But it should not have been," the man almost whispered, in a voice cool and smooth as satin, but with an edge that could kill you as easily as breathing.

He had never quite seen this side of Sephiroth before, and he felt a vague fear begin to roil in his stomach.

"What I do with patients is my own business, not yours."

"It is also Setzer's business. He pays for your experimentation, and expects rewards. And here they are – exactly the kind of rewards we were looking for, and you refuse to _give _them to us."

The doctor had never relied much on intuition, but something in his gut was telling him that Sephiroth, not Setzer, was the real head behind this organization. Setzer himself might not even know it, but he was being controlled.

"So, in truth, it's your money funding us both," Xemnas said quietly.

Sephiroth only smiled a little at that.

"It doesn't matter, does it?" He paused. "We're going to go protect my investment, my precious Jenova, and then you and your little toy can go off wherever you like, and live happily together."

"If you refuse," he continued, "not only will I withdraw funding" – his tone was mocking – "but I will kill you, and keep the patient as a personal bodyguard."

"I think you'll find that he's not very compliant."

Sephiroth's smile grew slowly, until Xemnas was struck by the sheer insanity of it.

"I think you'll find that time and training cure many things."

The doctor didn't even ask where Saïx was. He was too afraid that he already knew.

XXX

As Riku and the team, supplemented by more people from Twilight Town, burst onto the barely lit street where Setzer's hideout was, the first thing he noticed was that there had been a security upgrade. Kind of hard to miss, actually.

They almost looked like a swarm of insects, though almost unnatural in their immobility. None of them moved or looked anywhere, so the occasional twitch of one or another looked extremely out of place. The one exception to the rule was the redhead, who seemed constitutionally incapable of staying in one place for more than fifteen seconds. He had a baton resting on his shoulder, partway behind his head, and there was something about his cocksure demeanor that seemed extremely familiar.

"Police! Hands up or we shoot!" yelled Cloud from beside him, gun in hand but Buster sword swinging freely from its usual position on his back.

The crowd of guards didn't seem particularly interested in backing off, instead drawing their guns and aiming at the force. Riku's own weapon was out in a flash, and the fact that Sora's was visible beside him made him feel more comfortable. More secure.

Nobody was quite sure who fired the first shot, but it was only half a second before everyone was ducking for cover under pistol-fire. Riku took careful aim from his position around a building's corner, and took down one, two… or maybe not dead, just wounded.

Suddenly, there was a vibration at his hip, and he cursed rather loudly as he realized that his cell phone was going of and it was Roxas. Goddammit, that probably meant something _bad _had happened – he had given quite clear instructions that his number was only to be used if it _absolutely_ necessary.

He picked it up quickly with his left hand, opening it with a flick of his wrist while guarding with his right on the gun.

"Roxas, if this can wait…" he growled into the speaker.

"Riku," crackled Roxas's voice through the speaker, "there's someone at the door, they've gotten through the outside and they're opening the lock… oh my god, they've come for me, please help, I can't…" The phone went dead, and it was all Riku could do not to throw the phone at the wall in frustration.

They had _timed_ it, the goddamn sons of bitches, timed it so that he wouldn't be there to defend the civilian when they came for him. Some part of him said that that didn't make any particular logical sense, that there was really no way at all they could have known, but he ignored it.

"Sora," he yelled, so as to be heard over the noise of gunshots, "They've got Roxas. They broke into headquarters in order to get him," he practically snarled.

He took one shot – missed, dammit, because that redheaded bastard was too fast for his own good – and could barely hear Sora's response from beside him.

"What? He must really have known something good. Any idea what they're going to do with him?"

"None. I just hope to god he can stay alive until we get there."

Sora nodded in assent, and Riku wouldn't voice the fact that he _really_ fucking doubted it.

XXX

There was a hand across Roxas's mouth, and another around his arms and body, and his terror was almost palpable in its intensity.

"Shh…" came the voice from his left, leaning across his shoulder. It was the woman, that woman, maybe his mother – he didn't know why that thought terrified him quite so much as it did.

"It's alright, I've got you now."

She released her grip a little, and he turned so that he could properly see her face – and it was so familiar, so goddamn familiar that he felt a pounding in his head, and suddenly his vision exploded into a thousand shards of color.

It was just like what had happened on the street the day before.

Only through force of will was he able to keep his consciousness, this time – because he knew what to expect, now – and through the haze that made him feel like his mind was breaking, that everything he knew was splintering into a million pieces, he remembered. Thank god, he remembered. It was all so clear to him, now.

"Mother." He paused – that wasn't right. "Elena." She didn't deserve the name of mother.

He didn't see her wince, but then she never showed what she was really feeling like that. She could be stone-cold when she wanted, and now he knew why. She, his mother, was a cold-blooded assassin.

"Roxas, I'm so glad I found you here…" she started, putting her hands on his shoulders in a mockery of gentleness. Her eyes tried to meet his, but he wouldn't let them – he looked away, not because he didn't want her to see his expression but because every time he looked at her, he felt a jolt of betrayal.

"Yeah, great. I bet you are – you definitely weren't there when they tried to take me out the first time."

"That wasn't me, I had nothing to do with that – it was all Setzer's doing, I didn't have a say."

"You sat by and let a crime lord put a hit out on your son." He knew, at this point, that he was being cruel – she might not even have known until it was too late – but he wasn't willing to take it back. Still, his life was in danger and she was no help.

"I couldn't find you, I would have taken you away…"

"I _watched_ you _kill_ him!" he snapped, blue eyes blazing. "I watched you put a gun up to his head and shoot his brains out onto the floor. I don't even know what the man did, if he was late on a debt or _whatever_ the hell he did, but I know you killed him for it."

The expression on her pretty blonde face was growing more pained.

"You were never meant to see that." She paused. "And he tried to kill me, also."

"Of course he did. Self-defense is the best excuse." The derision in his voice was almost physical, dripping through his voice like water.

"Dammit, Roxas, listen to me!" she finally snapped, expression hard. "I didn't want to hurt you, I've been trying to find you to help you, to apologize, and you've been hiding out for… I don't even know how long."

"No, I would have gone a hell of a lot farther if I had been trying to hide. I lost my memory." The throbbing of his forehead was more than enough of a reminder of that.

"You what?"

"Now get the fuck away from me, _mother_, and see that your husband doesn't come anywhere near me either." He had never been particularly close to either of his parents, and this only served to complete the split.

"No." She paused. "I'm taking you with me. I'm not ever going to let you go again."

And before he knew what had happened, something hard hit him on the back of the head and he was out.

XXX

Five minutes worth of gunfire and the fight, at least on the outside, was effectively over. The strike team from Twilight Town had all of the guards at gunpoint and was quickly, efficiently disarming and handcuffing the entire regiment. And all of this without any significant injuries to Riku's squad. Thank god.

The redheaded guard who had been there both times had retreated into the building, much to the cop's anger – he was the only one who might have any idea what was happening to Roxas.

He jogged quickly through the fallen and the captives, eyes straight ahead – but he knew that Sora, as always, would be behind him. He couldn't ask for a better partner, really.

A quick glance to the side told him that Cloud, also, was accompanying them in – his gun was out, but he had one hand on the handle of his sword, as if he itched to take it out and try it, just once.

The inside of the building was deserted and quiet – either everyone was gathered in one room for the last fight, or they had all already escaped, despite the cops that had been placed on the back and around the sides. Dammit.

Cloud, who had a better instinct for this sort of thing than most, took a sharp turn into a narrow hallway, and Sora followed, with Riku taking up the rear. They had only taken a few steps in before Riku found an arm around his throat – dammit, he hadn't been watching his back, he was so used to Sora doing that for him. His gun was flying out of his hands almost as quickly, and it landed on the ground about ten feet behind them.

"Che, ya can't just walk in here without saying hello," said a voice from behind him. Cloud and Sora spun around, guns pointed, but in the narrow hallway there was no way they could shoot Riku's assailant without shooting their friend.

He could only barely see anything of his attacker, but he could see a few strands of blood-red hair here and there. The redhead, then – good. They'd found him without a search.

"Tell me where Roxas is," the cop stated rather than asked, buying time before the killing blow would be landed. He strained to see behind him despite the headlock, to catch a glimpse of his attacker and be able to better judge his own position. There was a way out, he just had to find it.

"Nice to meet ya too," he responded amusedly. "Anyway, you aren't in much of a position t' be makin' demands, now are you?"

"But you know."

"'Course I know. Roxas is my dear little friend." He paused, and Riku could almost feel the smirk. "Or didn't you know that already?"

"We knew he was with you at one point," Sora responded, nervousness only betrayed by a slight tremble in his hands as they held his pistol. "But we also know that he lost his memories."

"Oh, is that what he told you then?" The laugh was really very annoying. Riku moved his arm a tiny bit, trying to get at the knife he kept tied to his forearm just in case. Habit, from his days as a gang leader when nobody knew who was going to attack or when.

"That's the truth," responded Sora simply, with the strength of someone who has complete faith in people.

He wanted to tell the brunette not to listen to anything the redhead might say, that he was just trying to mess with them, but he didn't want to bring attention to himself as he slowly worked the knife out of its ties and into his hand.

"Or that's what he wanted you to think. He's…" Whatever he had been going to say was cut off by Riku's knife stabbing straight through his hand. The man didn't scream – he got points for that, really – but made a grunting noise and pulled out the knife. Up close like this, he recognized the man – Reno. He was a notorious mercenary in these parts, and evidently very good at what he did.

Suddenly, there was a gunshot from behind him, and a spurt of blood erupted from the man's right leg – Sora's doing, most likely. He collapsed to one knee, eyes wide and wild with pain, but Riku couldn't muster up any pity.

He ran forward swiftly and grabbed his gun, then shoved Reno down to the ground with one food and did a cursory check for weaponry – no guns, excellent – and then, the three of them took off running down the hallway. At the end stood a rather large, elaborate wooden door with metal supports – most likely barred or barricaded – but that didn't seem to give Cloud any pause at all. He pulled out his sword in one clean motion, with the ease of long practice, and sliced the door open with one, two powerful swipes, putting his hand up to cover his mouth as it practically exploded in dust and splinters.

Once the dust cleared, the three of them ran into the room and put themselves in guarding positions, and so it took them almost thirty seconds to realize what they were seeing – Setzer was crumpled, bloody, in a large and ornate chair, gasping out what seemed to be his last dying breath. A tall body clad in all black stood in front of the other man, and slightly to the side – and it took another moment to register that it was that man's sword through Setzer's stomach.

He pulled it out cleanly, smoothly, then turned in a slow, deliberate motion back to face his audience. Riku knew it should have been obvious from the long, silver hair, but he hadn't wanted to believe it until he saw it without a doubt – there, standing in front of Setzer's chair with a sword doused in another man's blood, was Sephiroth, their ally through so much, through so many hard cases.

And, more than that, he was Cloud's… friend? Love interest? Their captain had never exactly given them details as to the nature of his and the silver-haired judge's relationship, but it was easy enough to see that they were close. That he meant the world to Cloud – he was the blonde man's idol, his goal, his every definition of perfection. He was probably the reason that Cloud joined the squad in the first place.

"Oh, you made it early. Really, a shame," Sephiroth said with a small smirk. "I should have liked to keep you. My pet police force."

Riku heard a small noise from his captain, but wouldn't do him the indignity of turning to look. He knew the expression that would be on his face – hurt, betrayal, surprise. He had seen all that and more in Sora's blue eyes when they fought, for the first and last time.

"Sephiroth…" said the blonde quietly, "What is the meaning of this?"

"I came here to help defend my investment, then found that he had already failed me by the time I arrived. So, I killed him." The tone in his voice was crazed, frighteningly so – it gave Riku shivers just to hear it. "As soon as I am done with you," he continued, "I shall move on, and start again. After all, it doesn't matter who my pawns are, as long as they get the job done."

Neither Riku nor Sora moved, but Cloud flashed forward in an instant, bringing his Buster down towards Sephiroth's neck – but the man blocked it with ease, logic triumphing over passion.

"Now, Cloud, don't be offended," he drawled with a slow smile, and a look in his eyes that wasn't altogether sane. "You are by far the _prettiest_ pawn I have ever had the pleasure of using."

"You _traitor_," the captain snarled, voice hoarse and trembling with anger and horror.

"Perhaps, but what is the use of a good act if no-one ever realizes what it is?" he said with a smile. "And if you had been here two minutes later, I would have been gone and you never would have known. Would you have preferred never knowing?"

Cloud slashed at the man, one more time, then another, until their swords were flashing into a barely-visible haze of grey and silver.

Riku knew that he could do nothing, that even if he _could_, this was Cloud's fight. He wouldn't interfere with something this important to the man.

Sephiroth's blade blocked the blonde's once again, and for a moment, they stayed like that, frozen – but the man's words broke the silence.

"I think you might find something interesting to you in the next room," he said tonelessly, words focused onto Riku and Sora. That instantly broke them from their reverie – and Riku realized, in just a moment, that there might be captives there. Or more people who would kill his men.

They both began running at the same time, but Sora was ahead and bolted through the door with a speed he had never seen his lover display. He shut the door behind them, as a precaution to defend his back – but even then, he could still hear the sounds of Cloud and Sephiroth's struggle.

They passed through the short hallway into the next room without incident, and Riku wondered momentarily if Sephiroth had been lying, if –

And a body came out of the shadows of the unlit room, blurred with speed and exuding a feral sense that made Riku tense. He saw the eyes almost glow, reflecting the moonlight from the window, and he realized what this was – the patient, the one he had seen tear his claws through a doctor's gut and not flinch. The glinting blue hair was unmistakable even in the half-dark.

"Riku, it's…"

"I know," he interrupted Sora. The man ran to the middle of the room, half-crouched and animalistic, then crouched – and he knew without a doubt what was going to happen.

It was almost in slow motion as he watched the patient's muscles bunch, watched him gather himself for a flying leap – right towards Sora's throat. His hair was flying wildly, giving him an even more inhuman look, but the look was almost enough to give him pause. There was a person in there, a human being, and this wasn't his fault. He didn't deserve to die for this.

But, his lithe form was slowly descending on a helpless Sora – of _course_ the brunette wouldn't shoot an innocent, would never shoot someone who didn't deserve it . All that he could think of, all that he could see, was an image of Sora maimed, dying, covered in blood and coughing it, breathing it – it would bubble out of the corner of his mouth, spill from his gut, until he finally died while Riku watched, unable to do a thing about it. Until he died the way Yuffie had died. He would never, _ever_ let that happen again.

Riku didn't even have to think as he aimed his gun and pressed the trigger. He would not look away as the bullet took the other man directly in the chest, directly in the heart – it was his penance, to watch the dying breaths of every person he killed. To remind him.

The man collapsed on the floor in the middle of his leap, unmoving. He hadn't even ever had a chance to fight back.

XXX

Xemnas had been watching the whole scene from the side of the room, unwilling to get involved in something that he could not help. He couldn't have fought Sephiroth for the control, or he would have been dead and Saïx would have been in the same situation, only with no hope afterwards. It was in everyone's best interests to keep him alive.

Or so he had thought, until the moment when he saw a bullet make contact with Saïx's heart.

It didn't shock him, perhaps, as much as it ought to have shocked him – instead, he felt this horrible, delicious, clinging numbness invade his body, send its tendrils through every limb until all of him seemed to be made of the cool nothingness. Created from darkness.

He did not run forward to his fallen comrade, his patient, his challenge, his lover – because he knew, distantly, that that would not do any good. Nothing would do any good, now; the other man was quite dead, and no amount of wishful thinking would change that.

It never even once occurred to him that this might have been his fault.

XXX

Roxas was hardly surprised to wake up in a car on the way to… somewhere. It almost scared him, not knowing where they were, but he managed to keep his breathing calm and steady as they drove, so maybe – maybe – she wouldn't notice.

He hadn't been laying there for another five minutes before he heard her curse and slam on the brakes. He sat up at that, to see what was happening – and he saw a very familiar figure, clad in black and crimson, standing in the road – the alleyway, rather – with a gun pointed directly at his mother's face.

He didn't say a word, but his intention was clear enough – he motioned to Roxas to step out of the car, and he did, quite gladly, thrilled to be free of her.

"How did you find me?" he asked breathlessly, still recovering from the surprise.

"It was easy enough," he responded, taciturn. "Did she hurt you?" he asked, eyes and gun still steady on Elena's face.

"Not really. But I think you'll be happy to know that I have my memories back, and I'm going to testify against every single one of these bitches."

The look of surprise on Vincent's face, though subtle, was almost enough to make Roxas laugh. Or maybe that was just the nerves.

But he couldn't help it – he was alive, and that made him happier than anything had in a very long time.

XXX

Sora looked almost shellshocked by the sudden death of the man in front of them, frozen in place by a horror and guilt that Riku _never_ wanted to see on the brunette's face again. Without thinking, he took a few steps forward and threw his arms around his lover, and hugged him, held him – this wasn't his fault. All of this was Riku's fault.

"Why did you kill him?" Sora asked shakily after a moment. "He was crazy, none of this was his fault, he, Xemnas…"

"I know, I'm sorry. But… he might have killed you, Sora." He paused, and held the other man tighter. "I don't know what I would do without you. I don't know what I would do if you… if you died." His own voice was choked, and he looked at the man closely, one more time. He remembered Kairi telling stories – she had liked this one, this Saïx, he had seemed to be relatively sane and decent in a place full of lunatics. But whatever they had done to him – whatever Xemnas had done, to make him like this, to take him away from that place – was what had made him this way. It was that man's ruthless experimentation and his goddamn god-complex… but not Saïx. The guilt over his actions was almost overwhelming, but he had no regret – he would never regret it.

After all, Sora was alive; and as long as that was so, everything else would be alright in the end.

XXX

Xemnas knew it would only be a matter of time before the cops found him – all the doors were locked, except for the one in front of which they stood, and so making an escape would have been impossible.

He took it quietly as they handcuffed him, and did not fight it – his eyes, still, were glued to the fallen form in front of him, the only man who ever had interested him. But he knew that it was not love, that it had never been love; he was not capable of such an emotion, in truth.

And he wondered, as they took him away quietly, if this wasn't for the best, after all; he had explained everything, in detail, and the more he thought about it, the more he wondered whether this wasn't what Saïx might have wanted.

Because, after all, their chances of escaping never had been high, no matter what he might have said to the other man, and Xemnas never would have been able to care for him with the same passion as he cared for the doctor.

He had never been much of one for prayer, but in the face of this loss, he felt it more than appropriate to send Saïx a wish for happiness, wherever he might have been.

He knew he would never be forgiven. But that was alright.

He found it mildly ironic that now, he would be the one imprisoned forever, while Saïx roamed free. Ironic and, somehow, fitting.

XXX

XXX

Thank you all so much for reading through this far, I would never have done it without your spectacular love and support.

And yes, if you're wondering, this is the last real chapter - there will be a short epilogue sometime within the next few days, because it can't end like this. I won't let it end on this kind of note when there are so many happy things that are happening/ will happen. So I won't say 'fin' until after the epilogue, even though maybe I should say it now.

And... I know I'll probably get a lot of flak for this chapter, considering everything, but... it had to end this way. That was the plan from the beginning. I just never had planned to like Xemnas as much as I ended up doing through the course of the fic.

It's been two months, more or less, since I started this fic, and it's longer than anything I've ever done before - so it was also kind of a test, you might say, of my creative stamina.

Thank you again, you're all amazing.


	13. Epilogue

Epilogue

**Epilogue**

XXX

It had been three or four days since Axel had last seen Roxas, and he was beginning to get a little worried. Not too worried, really, the kid could take care of himself – no, that was a lie. He was worried. The cops had said a day, two tops, when they'd taken him, and here it had been twice that and still no sign of spiky blonde hair.

He took a deep breath as he finished off a complicated rhythm – man, he hadn't practiced in so long; this could really take it out of a guy – and set his drumsticks down on his stool as he stood. It was only then that he heard the furious pounding on his front door.

"I'm coming, I'm coming. Jeez, what does a guy have to do to get some practice time around this place?" His neighbors had complained before about the volume of his drumset. Fuck them, he figured.

He opened the door with a swing and a fake apologetic look he had crafted just for the occasion.

"Yeah, sorry, I know I'm loud, I…" He blinked once, twice, as he realized that the pissed-off neighbor standing in front of him was looking incredibly familiar. "Roxas?" he asked incredulously.

"I've been out here for _forty-five minutes_," the blonde growled at him. Axel took a step back and swallowed out of nervousness.

"Yeah, uh, sorry 'bout that, I mean…" He paused. "Wait, where the hell have you been for the past two days? Would have been nice to let a guy know, yeah?"

"I'll tell you as soon as my stuff's in. Riku ended up just leaving it here, they were waiting with me for the first _twenty_ minutes,"

"I told you I was sorry, I'll get your… wait, you've got crap? You didn't have any shit at the…" He trailed off, eyes going blank as he thought about what he was trying to say. It only took another moment for him to realize what that meant, and his face was split by a grin in half a second.

"You remember!" he said excitedly, arms waving in emphasis. "You jackass, you couldn't tell me?" The little smirk on Roxas's face should have pissed him off, but he was so goddamn ecstatic that the blonde finally _remembered_ everything, that he couldn't manage it.

"Wanted to see how long it would take you. Help me get this crap in, would you?"

"Fuckin' hell, Roxas," he exclaimed, not knowing what else to say but taking a bag and shouldering it.

"Don't get too excited. I'm living with my father until my emancipation hearing is over." He walked past the other man – shoved his way past, really – and into the living room.

"So this is it, huh? Nice place."

He couldn't help but think that it looked so much better with the blonde as a centerpiece. It wouldn't be too much longer, now, before he was there to stay. And Axel would make sure he never, ever wanted to leave.

XXX

"Hey."

Sora's voice as he entered their shared apartment was tentative and unsure, as if he didn't quite know whether his lover really wanted to be disturbed or not. He took a few steps forward and shut the door, then set his bag down on a nearby chair and moved to stand by the other man, evidently debating whether or not to sit on the bed.

"Hey," Riku responded with a half-smile, staring up at the ceiling from his position on the well-worn couch. The judge and jury handed out the verdict and punishment for Sephiroth today – though they had to do it in Twilight Town as the man clearly wouldn't put himself in jail – and Riku had neglected to be there, in favor of running the police station.

"They put Sephiroth away, you know," he said with no evident change to his expression.

"I figured." He wouldn't get the death penalty, because the only person he'd killed – that had been confirmed, anyway – was a hardened criminal himself. Juries didn't tend to have pity on criminals, and pity for the victims tended to be what drove death penalties. That and hate. "For life?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah."

There was a pause, and their conversation felt more awkward than it had in a while, though he suspected neither of them quite knew why.

"How's Cloud taking it?" Riku continued with a mask of utter boredom to hide the undertone of worry.

"He's… well. I haven't seen him since the trial. I don't know."

Riku somehow thought that Cloud would be taking some time off for quite a while – disappearing, rather. The events of a few weeks ago had probably been such a blow to him that Riku had no idea when they might see their captain return. He was a solitary man, and not one to show pain.

"So… how are you feeling?" Sora asked, blue eyes shining with concern.

"I'm… tired. But fine." He paused, and the expression on his face changed. "As soon as Vincent comes back on duty, what do you say that you and I go off on vacation?" he suggested, one eyebrow cocked, and with a suggestive little smirk. Sora responded by turning red, which only made him smirk harder. He was so pretty when he was embarrassed.

"Can we go to the beach?" he asked hopefully.

"I've already reserved a little beach-house off the coast of Twilight Beach. It's practically got its own island, too – Destiny Island, I think it was called. It's perfect, you're going to love it."

It might take a while, but things would be alright again. Yuffie's presence would be sorely missed, but they would move on.

They had each other, after all, and that's all either of them really needed.

XXX

It was almost seven before Demyx intruded upon Zexion's sleep. Quite frankly, he was surprised it had taken that long.

"Zexion! Guess what day it is?"

The doctor didn't respond, giving the other man a blank look, as if he didn't know.

"I'm not fond of guessing games," he said after a moment, completely deadpan.

The pouty look the blonde gave him was almost enough to make him smile. But not quite. He had better self control than that.

"You've forgotten? Zexy, you can be so mean. It was just one little thing, and…"

He interrupted the other man with a laugh.

"It's your eighteenth birthday." He paused, watching the expression on Demyx's face transform to one of delight. "There's a car waiting for us outside. I suggest you pack."

XXX

Roxas was more than a little surprised to hear his doorbell ring at one in the afternoon on his first day living there – Axel was at work, and there weren't _that_ many people interested in seeing him. He was even more surprised when the door started rattling, then opening – the person was letting themselves in. To Axel's apartment.

"Roxas!" came a voice from the doorway. "Roxas, hey, you there?"

He pretended to be asleep on the couch, not very convincingly.

"Hey, Roxas! I know you're awake." He opened one eye in a squint, to find Demyx's cheery face obscuring everything else in the room.

"Um, Demyx. How did you get in here?"

"Oh, I've had the keys for years. Nothing special. Anyway, you're here, Axel isn't, it's perfect!" he said excitedly, sitting down with a thump next to Roxas's head on the couch.

He had a bad feeling about this.

"What's perfect?" he asked blearily as he sat up, sleep not quite yet gone from the corners of his eyes. He'd been napping, dammit.

"You, me, here." The expression on his face was more than just a little frightening, mostly because he had a feeling that there was a Plan in the works.

"Um."

"You're living with Axel now, so I'm going to sit you down and talk to you properly. I just want to tell you that if you hurt him in _any_ way, you're going to regret it. I'll set Larxene on you. And trust me, you won't like it." There was a pale glint in Demyx's eye that made it clear that he had been on the receiving end of that before.

Roxas blinked slowly, almost confused.

"But wait, I'm not…" he interrupted defensively. They were living together because they were _friends_, dammit, and his other options just sucked. He'd been properly emancipated from his mother not too long ago – not surprising considering that she was an _assassin_ – and even though she was acquitted of the crime by reason of self-defense, he had no intention of going back to her.

They weren't dating, for god's sakes!

"He's pretty much hung up on you, you know?" Demyx continued before Roxas could finish. "It's like he's a totally different person now that you're back in his life."

"But you're assuming…" Once again his feeble protest was interrupted.

Demyx didn't miss a beat. "You're really good for him, and I hope he'll be good for you too. But the fact is that he's so dependant on you that you could hurt him pretty bad. So no cheating, no being cruel, the usual, got it? Oh, and _no_ sex until you're not jailbait anymore. That would be a sucky thing to get locked up for."

Roxas paled slightly at that last comment, left eye twitching in frustration – why wouldn't this guy just _listen_ to him?

"Demyx, we're not dating!" he finally interrupted, glowering. "If you'd just listen to me, you'd know that by now."

There was a brief pause, during which Demyx stared at him with the king of all blank looks.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

Another silence. They watched each other vaguely awkwardly, until Demyx shifted in his seat.

"Well, why the hell not?" the musician finally burst out in disbelief. "I mean Axel thinks the sun shines out of your ass and you like him too, so what's up? I mean, you're _living_ together for god's sake."

"…Maybe because I'm not gay?" he responded with just a hint of sarcasm. People could be so _dense_ sometimes.

"Oh." There was a pause. "_Oh._" Roxas found himself getting nervous at the sight of the grin that was spreading across the other's face slowly.

"Is that right?" Demyx finally said, with a grin that looked like it might have split his face down the middle.

"I'll give you two weeks, tops."

Roxas snorted derisively – your sexuality didn't change in two weeks, no matter what the other might have thought.

He left without another word, snatching his sitar on his way out and still wearing that stupid grin.

Roxas spent the next half hour trying to convince himself that the expression on the other blonde's face didn't make him nervous at all.

Really.

XXX

It took Demyx less than a day to get totally settled into Zexion's apartment. It was by no means tiny, but not big enough to lose yourself in either, and the rich wood paneling in his bedroom and study just screamed "bachelor." Perfectly spotless, too, but then that was to be expected.

By the time Zexion came home that evening, he was completely unpacked – even though the apartment had only been made for one person, the hall closet was surprisingly large – and had been sitting contentedly on the couch with his feet up, strumming chords absently on his sitar.

"Hey, Zexy! How was your day?"

"Fine." He paused. "It's quieter there, now."

"I'll bet."

Saïx's death had been a blow to them both, though they hadn't really spoken of it yet. Demyx knew that it would be a while before Zexion was completely comfortable with talking to him about things, but he was willing to wait. The reward would be more than worth it, after all.

"So I went by Axel's today to pick up my sitar," he began, mostly just to fill the silence. "And Roxas is back there now."

"Is that so?" Zexion responded with a look of amusement as he set down his bag and moved into the kitchen. The blonde couldn't help but notice that he winced at the sight of it – sure, he left crumbs here and there, and crap he forgot to put the milk away, but it wasn't _that_ bad.

_Ok, so Zexy's a neat freak. Duly noted._

"And I sat down to talk with the kid – I had to give him the shotgun talk, you know – and I found out that he and Axel aren't actually together yet! Can you believe it?"

The doctor raised an eyebrow and he quirked a smile at that statement as he put the kettle on to boil, setting out two china teacups, then pulled out a cloth and started wiping down the countertops.

"The shotgun talk."

"Yeah, you know the one. 'You hurt my best friend and I'll make sure you regret it.' Like the dad sitting on the porch with a shotgun for his daughter's first boyfriend."

He had a broom now, and he definitely looked like he was suppressing laughs.

"...So you're treating Axel like your daughter."

Demyx winced. It did kind of sound weird when you put it that way.

"You're missing the point here, Zexy."

"Clearly."

The blonde watched the other man with interest as he started to pour the tea, and he couldn't help but grin when he realized what the scene reminded him of.

"Hell, Zexion. You're _domestic_," he said with an incredulous look and no short measure of amusement. The broom and the cleaning and the tea, he looked like such a housewife! It was kind of adorable.

Zexion blanched at that, and stopped mid-pour, realizing what he was doing only just in time to save himself another cleanup.

"What makes you say that? Single men have to learn how to cook and clean."

"Actually, most guys just let their place be a wreck and order takeout."

"Well, there's always Axel's place if you prefer that."

Was he getting indignant? He was. Demyx laughed.

"No no, nothing against it, it's cute."

"I'm glad at least one of us is getting amusement from this," the doctor muttered, and the other man grinned, propping his chin up with his arm.

If nothing else, this would definitely be amusing.

XXX

Axel was really quite proud of himself for not molesting Roxas on the spot when he found the kid lounging on his couch, overly large sweatpants hanging down too far to be legal and skintight t-shirt not doing much more to help.

After all, this was only his first day. There would be lots of time for molesting in the future.

"Hey, Roxas. I take it you've moved in, officially, then?" He kept his voice down to a normal level. Excellent.

"Yeah," he said with a grin, evidently oblivious to just how _delectable_ he looked. "So how was work?"

"Filthy as all hell," he groaned, "But otherwise good. Got paid. Larxene should be eighteen within a couple of weeks and then we should have some _real_ spending cash. Bitch owes me money," he laughed. "I'll take you out to something fun."

"Sounds good," Roxas responded. "I'm going to order something, if that's ok, 'cause the food in your fridge has been dead so long it might have reincarnated." He stretched some as he stood, and that only made his stomach more glaringly distracting. The blonde might have said something after that, but Axel definitely missed it. He tuned back in after an indefinite leave of absence, and just barely manage to catch the end of the other's sentence.

"…about time to start making life hell for the neighbors, don't you think?"

"_Fuck_ yeah," he responded. He didn't really need to hear the rest, anyway.

XXX

Fifteen minutes later, Axel heard the doorbell ring – probably the food, they got damn fast service here – and decided it would probably be a good time to get out of the shower. He still had to find a lighter before they went out tonight, anyway – the one he kept on hand had run out of gas – because no hell-raising campaign is ever complete without fire.

He toweled off quickly and slipped a pair of pants on, shaking his head once to get rid of some of the excess water, then rummaged through his sink drawer for a lighter – he kept one everywhere – and then walked back out into the living room.

"I found a lighter, there should be tinder somewhere in my pantry," he informed the other absently as he sat down on the couch in front of the steaming Chinese food. It was only because he had started playing with his lighter that it took him as long as he did to realize that Roxas was staring at him. At his bare chest, more like.

Axel gave the other a sly smirk and a sidelong glance, putting his hands behind his head and his feet up on the table so as to afford the blonde a better view.

"Like what you see?" he quipped suggestively.

The boy jumped nervously with a small squeak, pointedly staring at the Chinese food as if to say _no_, he wasn't doing what it looked like he was doing.

"No! Why in hell are you walking around shirtless anyway?"

The redhead raised an eyebrow.

"This _is_ my apartment," he drawled, and gave the other a look that said he saw _right_ through it. "And it's not like you're interested in guys anyway, so why should it matter?" he teased.

"It doesn't," the blonde shot back defensively, "I just think it's weird."

Axel grinned like the devil, flicking his lighter on and off in his hand.

"Sure you do, Roxy," he agreed condescendingly, and Roxas shot him a look.

Now this gave him a pretty damn amazing idea, really.

XXX

When Zexion came home for the evening a few days later, there was no Demyx on his couch, but upon entering his bedroom, he found a package on his bed instead, with a note on top.

-

_Sorry I'm not here to give this to you myself, but Axel called for band practice and we have a concert in a week, so I couldn't skip out._

_Hope you enjoy!_

_Demyx_

-

He wasn't sure whether to be amused or indignant when he opened the package to find that it contained a frilly white apron. He settled for a bit of both.

As he shook it out and began to refold it, another piece of paper fell out of the bodice.

_Because I think it's cute_, it said in Demyx's handwriting.

Reading that, he couldn't help but smile.

XXX

Demyx wasn't exactly sure why Roxas was giving him such horrible glares from across the bedroom, but he could probably take a guess. Hidden frustration coming to the surface, and now he got to be the blame for all of it. The thought made him laugh.

As soon as Axel called a break, claiming to need a drink, he wasn't at all surprised to find himself dragged outside by a rather pissed off little blonde, who then proceeded to cross his arms and give the other man a glare that could have frozen fire.

"Demyx, you bastard," he spat. "What did you do?"

He gave his best innocent look in return. After all, he really _hadn't_ done anything.

"You want to tell me what you're accusing me of?"

"You know what I'm accusing you of."

"No, actually, I don't," he informed the other with a shrug.

Roxas made a noise that was halfway between a sigh and a derisive snort.

"You and Axel have been planning to get me and him together."

Demyx blinked.

"Well then, we've been doing a pretty good job of doing it without me, because this is the first I've heard of it."

Roxas shot him a look.

"Don't give me that."

"So what's the problem, really?" Demyx questioned with a sparkle in his eye. He had a feeling that he knew exactly what it was, even though he hadn't been a part of it.

The other blonde muttered something, looking away and tightening his arms defensively.

"Speak up, can't hear you."

"…Axel's been walking around shirtless practically all the _fucking_ time."

The other blonde snorted in amusement. This kid was really a master of denial.

"And this is a problem, why?"

The other gave him a wild look.

"Because he's _shirtless,_ that's why!" He ran a hand through his hair, agitated, and that just made Demyx grin more.

"So you like it and don't want to admit it to yourself. Five days, Roxas – I gave you two weeks. You're ahead of schedule."

"But, I… No!"

"Deal with it, kid," he said good-naturedly. "You're attracted to him. And besides, would it _really_ be so bad? I mean, you like him, he's completely _obsessed_ with you, seriously, what's the problem?"

He was really pretty proud of himself, because it seemed he'd rendered Roxas totally speechless. It would probably be only a matter of hours before he realized that the answer to that was "Nothing, really."

And that's what he'd been aiming for all along.

XXX

The next morning, his cell phone woke him with Axel's ring, and he slammed it up to his ear blearily, rolling over on his pillow to check the time. Ten-thirty.

"Hey, man," drawled the redhead's voice from the other end. "Guess what I did last night."

"It's about time," Demyx shot back, throwing an arm over his eyes to block out the light. "But couldn't this have waited another couple of hours?"

"I guess, but man, thanks. This is fucking _perfect._"

"Yeah, yeah. Don't mention it."

_Perfect_, he mused as he flipped the cell closed. Was that it?

Maybe not, but even so, it was pretty goddamn close.

XXX

XXX

Remember when I said I'd have this out within a couple of days? Yeah, I lied. This fought me tooth and nail.

But... I love you?

Anyway, so there we have it! The end, all right and proper. If you read and liked it, especially if you haven't dropped me a line before, please say something, I'll love you forever.

And because this is the last chapter, I feel like I can finally do this. Random fact time!

1) I got the idea for this story with only Xemnas and Saix really in it at all. I added Demyx and Zexion in the planning process because I wanted _someone_ to have a happy ending, and the rest of everyone inserted themselves during the actual writing of the fic without my knowledge or prior approval.

2) Riku and Sora refused to do anything even vaguely plot-related for a good long time after they were introduced. Whenever I tried to make them do anything, they just sat there and were mushy at each other instead. Cute, but hard to do anything with XD

3) I inserted Sephiroth on a whim when I needed a judge with connections on the squad. He took over insidiously and I blame the emo of the last chapter _entirely_ on him.

4) I'm seriously considering writing a prequel to this about Riku's days in the gang and Sora as the leader of a squad. Thoughts, anyone?

Thank you guys again, and please speak to me, I know it can be hard to think of what to say but it means _worlds _to me.

Mthaytr


End file.
